CAROLINE  ATWATER 

MASON  r- 


HOLT   OF  HEATHFIELD 


HOLT   OF   HEATHFIELD 


BY 


CAROLINE   ATWATER   MASON 

AUTHOR  OF  "A  WOMAN  OF  YESTERDAY,"  "A  MINISTER  OF 

THB  WORLD,"  "A  WINDFLOWER,"  "A  LILY  OF 

FRANCE,"  "THE  LITTLE  GREEK  GOD,"  ETC. 


THE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

LONDON:  MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  LTD. 
1903 

All  rights  reserved 


COPYBIGHT,   1908, 

BY  THE  CURTIS  PUBLISHING  COMPANY. 

COPYRIGHT,  1908, 
BY  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 


Set  up,  electrotyped,  and  published  October,  1903. 


NortoootJ 

J.  S.  Cashing  &  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith  Co. 
Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PACK 

I.  THE  COMPTONS  AND  CUSHIERS  ....  1 

II.  MURRAY  HOLT 14 

III.  A  LITTLE  HARMLESS  FAMILY  FRICTION  .        .  28 

IV.  THE  FACE  AT  THE  WINDOW       ....  37 
V.  THE  LITTLE  FIEND 49 

VI.  CHECK 61 

VTI.  CONFESSOR  AND  PENITENT 73 

VIII.  THE  OVER-SOUL 89 

IX.  CRESCENDO 97 

X.  IN  AN  OLD  ALCOVE 113 

XI.  A  STUDY  IN  ECONOMICS 131 

XH.  THE  CANDID  FRIEND 147 

XIII.  AT  THE  LEDGE 162 

XIV.  THE  BRIDGE  AND  A  STAR 173 

XV.  MlSS   CUSHIER    RUNS    AFTER   THE   MINISTER          .  187 

XVI.  END  OF  A  MORTAL  ANTIPATHY  ....  202 

XVH.  THE  RESIGNATION  OF  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD  .  216 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

"Murray  Holt  approached  with  an  apology  for 

coming  at  so  late  an  hour  "  .        .        Frontispiece 

FACING  PAGE 

"  The  girl  moved  to  one  of  the  stout  pillars  up- 
holding the  veranda  roof "   .        .        .        .78 

"Holt  was  aroused  by  the  strange,  new  quality 

of  the  music " 106 

"Every  eye  in  the  room  was  fixed  upon  the 

girl" 168 


Til 


2229059 


HOLT   OF   HEATHFIELD 

CHAPTER   I 

THE    COMPTONS    AND    CUSHIEBS 

AT  midday  of  a  mid-June  Sunday  a  stream 
of  people  issuing  from  the  Old  North  Church 
on  the  Broad  Street  of  Heathfield  showed  that 
divine  service  had  closed. 

Broad  Street,  at  this  end  of  the  town,  was 
a  wide  and  quiet  avenue  shaded  by  stately  old 
trees.  The  church,  a  gray  stone  edifice,  builded 
on  admirable  lines  and  lifting  an  ivy-fretted 
Norman  tower  against  the  sky,  stood  back 
from  the  street  and  was  approached  by  a 
shady  walk  passing  between  lines  of  arbor-vitse 
hedge.  A  wide  stretch  of  velvety  turf  at  the 
right  was  bounded  by  the  manse,  an  ecclesi- 
astical dwelling-house  of  gray  stone,  united  to 
the  church  by  a  cloisterlike  gallery  possessing 


2  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

a  series  of  mullioned  arches.  The 'manse,  as 
well  as  the  church  and  cloister,  was  luxuri- 
antly embossed  with  ivy.  The  sun  shone  upon 
its  myriad  glossy  leaves  and  the  light  wind 
stirred  them  softly.  Over  the  whole  scene 
rested  a  peculiar  half-delicious,  half-torturing 
sense  of  charm.  It  reminded  one  vaguely  of 
many  other  scenes.  Travelled  folk  were  wont 
to  say  that  it  was  all  like  a  lovely  corner  of 
some  old  English  cathedral  close. 

Drawn  up  at  the  curb  in  front  of  the  church 
stood  a  shining  closed  carriage  with  a  spirited 
pair  of  bays  and  liveried  coachman  and  foot- 
man. A  handsome  man  of  thirty-two  or  more 
was  waiting  with  manifest  impatience  on  the 
pavement  near  at  hand.  His  Prince  Albert 
coat  was  buttoned  closely  about  a  figure  whose 
elegance  of  proportion  inclined  slightly  to 
embonpoint.  Just  behind  his  carriage  stood 
an  unpretentious  open  surrey  with  one  staid 
family  horse  held  by  a  driver  whose  only  mark 
of  livery  was  his  beaver  hat.  These  two  alone 
were  now  left  of  a  long  line  of  equipages 
which  had  awaited  the  close  of  service. 


THE  COMPTONS  AND   CUSHIERS  3 

A  stout  gentleman  with  a  ruddy  face  and 
heavy  white  mustache,  paused  as  he  came 
down  the  path  from  the  church  door  to  return 
the  deferential  greeting  of  the  man  by  the 
carriage. 

"Good  morning,  Compton,"  he  said,  halt- 
ing with  an  abrupt  but  gracious  half-military 
salute.  "  Mr.  Holt's  value  rises  mightily  when 
he  sends  another  man  to  preach,  heh  ?  " 

"  It  certainly  does,  Mr.  Binney,"  returned  the 
younger  man,  smiling  with  hearty  acquiescence; 
«  we  are  getting  spoiled,  I  believe." 

The  elderly  gentleman  walked  on.  His 
home  was  just  beyond  the  church,  a  plain,  sub- 
stantial mansion.  The  men  who  had  just  ex- 
changed greetings  represented  the  two  powerful 
manufacturing  interests  of  Heathfield.  Mr. 
Binney  had  created  his  own  wealth.  Mr. 
Laurence  Compton  had  inherited  his  business 
and  its  great  income  from  his  father,  who  had 
been  dead  several  years. 

Left  alone  now,  as  the  stream  of  worshippers 
issuing  from  the  church  had  almost  ceased,  Mr. 
Laurence  Compton  kept  his  eye  somewhat 


4  HOLT  OF   HEATHFIELD 

steadily  directed  toward  two  figures  which 
remained  still  standing  upon  the  broad  stone 
steps.  Seen  down  the  vista  formed  by  the 
stiff,  dark  lines  of  the  hedge,  and  set  against 
the  gray  stone  of  the  church,  these  two 
figures,  which  were  alike  graceful  and  girlish, 
made  a  picture  pretty  enough  to  disarm  the 
impatience  of  a  man  who  has  gone  to  church 
unwillingly  only  to  find  it  more  of  a  bore 
than  he  expected,  a  man  who  is  in  haste  to 
get  back  to  his  cool  veranda,  his  cigar,  and 
his  Sunday  papers. 

As  if  drawn  by  the  persistent  gaze  fixed 
upon  them,  the  two  young  ladies  slowly  de- 
scended the  steps.  As  they  passed  down  the 
church  walk,  they  glanced  back  at  a  group 
of  dowagers  in  goodly  apparel  of  satin,  lace, 
and  discreetly  unostentatious  diamonds,  who 
were  still  engaged  in  earnest  conversation 
just  within  the  open  doors. 

Of  the  two  girls  one  was  tall,  a  demi- 
blonde,  with  smooth  chestnut  hair,  fine,  wide- 
open  eyes,  impassive  in  their  expression ;  the 
other  was  small  and  slight,  with  irregular 


THE  COMPTONS  AND   CUSHIERS  5 

features,  dark  eyes  full  of  arch  roguery,  and 
brown  hair  which  was  brushed  in  curly  con- 
fusion away  from  a  low  forehead.  Hair  and 
head  in  their  captivating  individuality  of 
piquant  grace  were  framed  in  by  a  broad 
black  hat  brim  which,  like  the  black  gown, 
was  of  gauzy  transparence.  At  her  belt 
was  a  handful  of  pale  pink  roses.  Her  com- 
panion was  faultlessly  attired  in  turquoise 
and  white  after  a  style  which  warned  the 
observer  of  a  French  modiste,  exclusive  styles, 
and  prohibitive  prices. 

Both  Cecilia  Compton  and  Gladys  Cushier 
would  have  been  called  by  the  gentleman  who 
awaited  them  at  the  carriage  door  "  thorough- 
bred." 

Both  had  breeding  palpably  and  blood 
possibly ;  of  that  one  could  not  be  so  sure 
in  a  country  where  aristocracy  is  made  so 
rapidly.  In  face  and  figure,  in  raiment  and 
bearing,  in  their  sinuous  slenderness  and  deli- 
cate curves,  dwelt  the  fine  fragrance  of  physi- 
cal perfectness.  There  was,  however,  a  subtle 
difference  in  the  quality  of  the  two.  Belong- 


6  HOLT  OF   HEATHFIELD 

ing  to  both,  a  defect  indeed  of  their  caste  and 
their  condition,  was  a  nuance  of  unconscious 
insolence.  In  the  blonde  maiden  it  arose  from 
the  claims  of  material  advantage ;  in  her 
friend,  from  a  sense  of  inherited  social  dis- 
tinction. 

"  At  last ! "  exclaimed  the  gentleman-in-wait- 
ing,  removing  his  hat  with  ironical  gallantry. 
"  I  thought  perhaps  you  had  concluded  to 
take  up  your  abode  in  the  sanctuary." 

"  It  does  not  make  any  difference,  Larry," 
replied  the  tall,  fair  girl,  with  a  shade  of  petu- 
lance, "whether  I  come  or  not  as  long  as 
mother  stays  behind  talking." 

"  You  mean  adoring ! "  exclaimed  her  friend. 
"  They  have  been  adoring  their  Creator  for 
an  hour,  and  now  they  are  adoring  their  pastor 
for  another.  Does  it  always  take  so  long  ?  " 

"Always,"  remarked  Mr.  Laurence  Comp- 
ton.  "Did  you  hear  what  kept  Mr.  Holt 
away  from  service,  Cecil  ?  "  he  asked  his  sister, 
adding,  "it  strikes  me  as  rather  a  cavalier 
proceeding,  this  non-appearing  act  of  his.  I 
think  I  will  try  it  next  Sunday." 


THE  COMPTONS  AND  CUSHIERS  7 

"  It's  all  about  that  dreadful  accident  at 
the  works  last  night,  you  know,"  exclaimed 
Miss  Compton,  plainly  troubled. 

"  What  business  is  that  of  Holt's  ?  "  asked 
her  brother,  quickly. 

"  Why,  they  have  to  administer  extreme 
unction  or  something,  don't  they,  in  those 
cases  ?  "  interposed  Gladys  Cushier  —  Glee, 
she  was  always  called  among  her  friends. 
Even  in  this  solemn  suggestion  her  irrepressible 
roguishness  was  discernible. 

"  Glee  !  Extreme  unction  by  a  Protestant 
minister,  —  you  are  dreadful ! " 

"What  —  did  one  of  those  poor  fellows 
die  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Laurence  Compton,  abruptly. 
He  frowned  as  he  spoke,  and  his  smooth- 
shaven,  smooth-featured  face  changed  per- 
ceptibly. 

"  Yes,"  said  his  sister,  gravely.  "  It  is  worse 
than  that.  Two  of  them  died  during  the 
night ;  the  other,  they  say,  is  alive  still,  but 
he  simply  will  not  let  Mr.  Holt  go  out  of 
his  sight  for  a  moment,  so  you  see  he  had  to 
send  Mr.  Parrish  to  preach." 


8  HOLT  OF   HEATHFIELD 

"  I  see,"  said  her  brother,  soberly.  "  I  must 
send  my  check  at  once.  Sad  enough,  surely. 
Very  decent  of  Holt  to  stand  by  the  poor 
men,"  and  he  passed  his  gloved  forefinger 
musingly  up  and  down  his  chin.  A  moment 
of  silence  fell  and  then,  glancing  up  with  a 
shade  of  embarrassment,  Compton  said,  "  Yes, 
Holt  is  a  fine  fellow,  a  very  fine  fellow." 

"  Dear  me,  Larry,  have  you  got  it  too  ? " 
exclaimed  Gladys  Cushier,  willing  to  change 
the  theme  of  their  casual  comment  to  one  of 
a  lighter  nature.  « I  did  not  expect  it  of  you." 

"  What  did  you  not  expect,  charming 
Glee?"  asked  Compton,  with  a  swift  change 
of  tone  and  a  half-caressing  smile  down  upon 
her. 

"  That  you  should  join  the  adorers'  chorus," 
was  the  reply,  with  a  slight  deepening  of  her 
color.  "  I  hoped  for  one  friend,  at  least,  left 
me.  Not  one  word  have  I  heard  since  the  day 
I  came  home  from  college  that  was  not  of  or 
from,  to  or  about,  that  everlasting  parson, 
the  Reverend  Murray  Holt !  I  had  it  even  at 
college.  One  of  the  girls  knew  him  at  Prince- 


THE  COMPTONS  AND   CUSHIERS  9 

ton  and  talked  of  him  whenever  she  could  find 
any  one  to  listen  to  her." 

"  Haven't  you  seen  him  yet,  Glee  ?  "  asked 
Cecil  Compton,  in  surprise. 

"  I  have  not !  Thus  far  my  life  has  failed 
of  that  supreme  crisis.  I  not  only  have  not 
seen  the  new  minister,  the  '  bland,  passionate, 
deeply  religious,'  and  also  unmarried  Mr.  Holt, 
but  I  can  say  in  simple  sincerity  that  I  do 
not  want  to." 

"  That  will  do  very  well  to  start  with," 
said  Compton,  smiling  sardonically,  "but  I 
will  bet  you  a  hundred  roses  you  will  be  one 
of  the  worst  cases  in  town  before  summer  is 
over." 

"  Laurence  Compton,"  protested  Glee,  "  you 
ought  to  know  me  better  !  I  have  a  rooted 
antipathy  to  <  the  cloth  '  —  isn't  that  what  you 
call  it  ?  —  to  begin  with,  to  every  genus  and 
species  of  it  except  the  currant-colored  that 
the  popes  wear.  But  these  petted  and  pious 
athletes  with  expressive  eyes  and  aesthetic 
tastes  who  talk  of  sacrifice  and  devotion  and 
yet  grasp  every  luxury  that  comes  their  way; 


10  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

the  kind  whose  only  achievement  is  to  trail 
around  a  lot  of  feminine  admirers  after  them  ; 
above  all  things  those  young  divines  who  go  in 
for  an  air  of  studied  coldness  and  indifference, 
as  I  hear  your  Mr.  Holt  does,  in  order  to  keep 
us  girls  from  breaking  our  hearts,  —  honestly, 
there  is  no  type  of  man  I  so  thoroughly 
detest ! " 

"You  have  not  seen  him  yet,"  said  Cecil, 
significantly.  She  was  looking  back  at  the 
group  of  dowagers,  who  had  now  reached  the 
middle  distance,  but  had  stopped  again.  Her 
brother  seemed  to  have  lost  his  eagerness  to 
start,  and  was  listening  to  Glee's  extravagant 
nonsense  with  sympathetic  amusement,  while 
the  horses  fretted  and  pawed  incessantly. 

"  Is  he  so  terribly  handsome  ? "  cried  the 
girl,  impatiently. 

"  Homely  as  the  dickens ! "  said  Compton, 
with  slow  emphasis.  "  Ah  !  "  turning  sud- 
denly at  a  sound  of  rustling  silk,  "  the  ladies 
have  finished  their  little  praise  service  !  " 

Then,  disregarding  the  footman,  he  assisted 
into  the  carriage  a  delicate,  gray-haired  lady, 


THE   COMPTONS  AND   CUSHIERS  11 

his  mother,  and  that  done  hastened  to  place 
Mrs.  Cushier  in  the  waiting  surrey.  She  was 
noticeably  younger,  a  dark-eyed,  energetic,  and 
active  matron  in  the  late  forties. 

As  Glee  took  her  seat  beside  her  mother  in 
the  easy  open  carriage,  Laurence  Compton 
lingered,  with  his  eyes  upon  her  face  full  of 
unconcealed  admiration. 

"  And  you  fly  off  again  to-morrow  !  "  he  said 
regretfully.  "  It  isn't  fair.  Mrs.  Cushier,  can't 
you  cage  this  wild  little  bird  of  ours  and  hold 
her  fast  for  a  while  ?  " 

Mrs.  Cushier  shook  her  head  with  an  in- 
dulgent laugh  at  the  note  of  proprietorship  in 
Compton's  question. 

"  But  you  know,  Larry,"  replied  Glee,  a 
slight  confusion  evident  for  all  her  ready 
habit  of  speech,  as  she  met  his  look,  "  I  shall 
be  at  home  always  after  this,  and  I  promised 
the  girls  so  long  ago." 

"  Oh,  this  is  the  Cape  Cod  house-party 
scheme,  is  it  ?  " 

"Yes,  there  will  be  eight  of  us  girls  all 
alone  for  one  week." 


12  HOLT   OF  HEATHFIELD 

"  Men  ruled  out  entirely  ?  " 

"  Absolutely." 

"  Perhaps  then  by  the  time  you  return  you 
will  be  willing  to  look  upon  the  face  of  an 
old  neighbor." 

Compton's  hat  was  in  his  hand.  He  had 
already  retreated  from  the  surrey.  Cecil  was 
calling  him  to  hasten.  The  horses  would  not 
stand  another  minute. 

"  It  is  just  possible ! "  nodded  Glee,  with 
her  smile  which  was  like  a  flash  of  light. 

Compton  sprang  into  his  own  carriage,  fac- 
ing his  mother  and  sister ;  the  footman  closed 
the  door  with  a  sharp  click,  climbed  to  his 
place,  and  at  last  the  horses  could  start.  An 
instant  more  and  the  surrey  was  abreast  of  the 
closed  carriage.  Compton  leaned  from  his 
window,  then  made  a  swift  sign  to  Glee  to 
look  backward. 

«  The  Young  Divine  ! "  he  murmured  with  a 
look  of  mock  impressiveness. 

Glee  held  her  head  loftily  and  straight, 
refusing  to  turn,  and  both  carriages  rolled 
on. 


THE   COMPTONS  AND   CUSHIERS  13 

Up  the  street,  approaching  the  church,  a 
tall,  broad-shouldered  man  in  a  gray  flannel 
suit  was  coming,  a  man  with  a  homely,  rough- 
hewn  face,  haggard  in  the  noon  light  from  his 
night's  vigil,  and  even  grim. 


CHAPTER   H 

MURRAY    HOLT 

MURRAY  HOLT  crossed  the  stretch  of  lawn 
before  his  house  with  long  strides,  and  the  air 
of  a  man  who  seeks  to  escape  interruption.  In 
this  purpose  he  was  not,  however,  successful. 

Two  ladies,  one  of  middle  age  in  faultless 
mourning  costume,  the  other  young  and  girlish 
in  virginal  white,  had  hovered  at  the  church 
entrance,  after  all  others  had  left.  As  if  they 
had  been  awaiting  Holt's  advent,  they  now 
moved  promptly  to  the  point  where  they  could 
intercept  his  progress.  With  an  air  of  deepest 
concern  the  older  lady  put  a  number  of  ques- 
tions to  her  pastor,  regarding  the  fate  and 
sufferings  of  the  victims  of  the  recent  explo- 
sion. These  questions  being  briefly  answered, 
a  new  set  was  introduced  with  a  note  of  even 
more  sincere  anxiety. 

"  And  how  is  our  dear  Mrs.  Fisher  ?     Is  it 

14 


MURRAY  HOLT  15 

true  that  Dr.  Cushier  says  there  may  be 
malarial  conditions  in  the  manse  ?  There  can- 
not be  any  danger  of  typhoid,  can  there  ?  But 
how  very  distressing  at  best !  Will  you  not, 
Mr.  Holt,  come  home  to  dinner  with  us  ?  The 
house  must  be  so  comfortless !  Dear  Mrs. 
Fisher  is  such  an  indispensable  creature ! " 

These  exclamations  and  questions,  which 
followed  one  another  in  smooth  and  rapid 
succession,  were  bracketed  by  Mr.  Holt,  and 
answered  inclusively  by  the  brief  statement 
that  he  had  not  been  at  home  since  Saturday 
afternoon,  before  the  explosion  occurred,  and 
did  not  know  his  housekeeper's  present  con- 
dition. He  had  not  supposed  it  to  be  serious. 
He  must  decline  the  proifered  hospitality  with 
thanks.  Not  waiting  for  a  fresh  subject  to  be 
introduced,  he  then  somewhat  unceremoniously 
broke  away  from  the  solicitude  of  his  parishion- 
ers, and  in  another  moment  the  door  of  the 
manse  closed  upon  him. 

The  young  girl  flushed.  Her  mother  sighed 
as  they  turned  back  to  the  path.  "  Dear 
man ! "  she  said,  "  he  was  very  abrupt,  even 


16  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

brusque  at  times,  was  he  not  ?  But  it  seemed 
after  all  to  fit  that  tremendous  moral  earnest- 
ness, —  to  be  one  of  the  defects  of  his  qualities, 
don't  you  know  ?  and  all  that.  One  could 
forgive  such  a  man  anything !  " 

Holt,  coming  from  the  dazzling  sunlight, 
groped  his  way  through  the  darkness  of  the 
closed  house  and  entered  a  great  dim  room  at 
the  left  of  the  entrance.  The  Gothic  windows 
with  their  stained  glass  panes  gave  an  ecclesi- 
astical tone  to  the  interior  which  was  other- 
wise that  of  a  conventional  drawing-room, 
grave  and  dignified  in  its  appointments,  but 
full  of  subdued  richness. 

On  the  shining  mahogany  table  Holt  noticed 
a  great  brass  bowl  of  exquisite  fresh  roses, 
and  lying  beside  it  was  a  little  heap  of  notes 
in  square  envelopes  of  faint  tints  and  varying 
sizes,  which  had  arrived  during  his  absence. 
All  were  addressed  in  feminine  handwriting. 
The  unimportance  of  their  contents  he  knew 
as  well  as  if  he  had  read  them,  in  effect,  —  the 
delicate  questions  in  casuistry,  the  artificial 
self-accusings,  the  flattering  tributes  to  him- 


MURRAY  HOLT  17 

self,  the  invitations  to  social  events.  Holt 
threw  his  straw  hat  upon  the  sofa  and  stood 
for  a  moment  looking  with  a  strange  expression 
at  the  table,  and  from  it  with  an  odd,  measur- 
ing glance  at  the  walls  and  furnishings  of 
the  room. 

He  was  six  feet  and  a  little  over ;  a  big, 
overgrown  fellow,  not  more  than  twenty- 
seven,  with  a  healthy  and  vigorous  leanness 
of  limb  and  breadth  of  shoulder  ;  a  man  not 
awkward,  but  clearly  not  graceful.  His  hair 
was  nearly  red,  and  he  had  the  sensitive  skin 
which  belongs  to  that  coloring,  freckled  across 
the  high  cheek  bones,  and  reddened  by  sun- 
burn, but  white  as  milk  on  forehead  and 
throat.  His  brows  were  straight  and  well 
defined,  the  eyes  clear  green-gray,  the  features 
rough  hewn  but  indicative  of  force  and  firm- 
ness. The  mouth  indeed  at  the  moment  had 
a  dogged  set,  and  the  whole  face,  which  bore 
traces  of  a  sleepless  night,  indicated  an  un- 
pleasant intensity  of  preoccupation. 

His  first  movement  now  was  to  grasp  the 
whole  unopened,  slippery  heap  of  notes, — 


18  HOLT   OF   HEATHFIELD 

blue,  mauve,  pearl,  and  cream  tinted,  —  and 
fling  them  with  a  quick,  well-directed  motion 
into  the  empty  grate  behind  a  low,  embroidered 
screen.  He  looked  viciously  next  at  the  roses, 
as  if  he  had  an  impulse  to  fling  them  after  the 
notes,  then  bit  his  lip  and  stood  frowning 
harshly. 

The  truth  was,  Murray  Holt  was  fighting 
with  a  mighty  impulse  to  tear  up  the  soft 
carpets  on  which  he  stood  and  tread  bare 
boards ;  to  hurl  down,  with  the  fierce  brutality 
of  the  old  iconoclasts,  the  shining  vases  on  his 
mantel,  the  richly  framed  copies  of  delicately 
sensuous  Botticellis  and  della  Robbias  from 
his  walls ;  to  make  a  Pyramid  of  Vanities 
then  and  there  after  the  counsels  of  Savo- 
narola —  to  reduce  himself,  in  fine,  to  the  level 
of  the  surroundings  which  he  had  but  now  left. 

For  the  first  time  in  his  life  it  had  been  given 
the  young  clergyman  to  know  what  life  in  its 
hard  reality  was  to  hundreds  of  the  people 
about  him,  and  the  impact  of  that  reality 
served  for  the  moment  to  produce  a  deadly 
loathing  of  the  refinements  and  luxuries  of  his 


MURRAY   HOLT  19 

own  life,  which  he  had  hitherto  taken  as  a 
matter  of  course.  Hence  the  half-insane  pas- 
sion which  was  raging  now  within  him  as  he 
thought  of  the  wretched  tenement  he  had  left 
in  its  sordid,  squalid  meanness.  The  soiled 
and  tattered  bed  on  which  he  had  helped  to 
lay  one  shattered  body,  that  of  an  «  unskilled 
laborer,"  came  before  him.  The  ill-smelling 
sink  was  close  by,  and  the  uncovered  table 
with  its  ugly  cups  and  plates  of  stained  and 
cracked  earthenware.  In  a  broken  chair  sat 
the  wife,  hard-featured  and  toil-worn,  her 
roughened  hands  clasped  somewhat  primly 
in  her  lap,  tears  running  down  her  cheeks, 
but  a  certain  curious  trace  of  self-importance 
visible  on  her  mouth.  A  neighbor  was  telling 
her  that  the  Company  would  surely  pay  for 
her  husband's  funeral  expenses,  and  the  sense 
of  coming  for  a  short  moment  into  view  as 
"  the  widow  of  a  victim  of  the  sad  disaster," 
and  of  thus  being  an  object  of  consideration, 
even  by  the  great  mysterious  Company  itself, 
was  plainly  of  no  small  power  to  soothe  her 
grief. 


20  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

The  other  wife  had  been  of  quite  another 
strain.  Tearless  and  sullen,  she  had  con- 
fronted with  bitterness  those  who  suggested  to 
her  the  same  source  of  consolation. 

"  Yes,  no  doubt ! "  she  had  cried,  turning 
from  the  dead  body  which  she  would  let 
no  one  but  herself  approach,  "when  they 
have  blown  up  my  poor  lad  with  their  wicked 
machinery,  they  will  come  here  with  pious 
faces  and  tell  me  it  is  the  Lord's  will,  and 
I  must  be  grateful  to  them  for  putting  him 
out  of  my  sight  under  the  ground.  Oh, 
Jim ! "  and  the  wail  into  which  she  had 
broken  sounded  still  in  the  young  man's  ears, 
and  he  thought  would  never  cease  to  sound. 

That  had  been  in  the  gray  dawn.  He  had 
come  from  the  place,  that  wail  still  piercing 
his  ears,  and  down  the  grimy  street  to  another 
poor  abode,  and  from  this  he  had  only  a  half- 
hour  since  departed.  Here  lay,  agonized  and 
mutilated,  a  young  gunsmith  of  gigantic 
frame,  barely  twenty-four  years  old.  It  was 
comparatively  a  comfortable  house,  for  its 
master,  having  a  trade,  was  lifted  above  the 


MURRAY  HOLT  21 

poverty  line.  There  were  half  a  dozen  rooms, 
kept  tidily,  and  the  thrifty  young  wife,  with 
her  two  babies,  was  comely  and  quiet.  But 
as  he  sat,  hour  after  hour  by  the  bedside, 
where  the  instinct  of  life  was  waging  its 
hard  battle,  Holt  learned  by  heart  what  life 
meant  to  such  as  these. 

Small  signs  revealed  to  him  the  intimate 
meaning  of  poverty,  vague  and  undefined 
before.  To  have  a  few  sheets  and  towels 
was  plainly  a  matter  for  congratulation  to 
the  wife ;  to  have  none  in  reserve,  a  matter 
of  course.  To  hear  her  sigh  for  such  allevia- 
tions and  appliances  for  sickness  as  he  would 
have  supposed  indispensable,  but  to  patiently 
plan  to  do  without  them  as  wholly  out  of 
reach,  —  this  had  touched  his  spirit  with  keen 
compunction,  and  emptied  his  purse  of  its 
last  dollar.  It  had  never  occurred  to  him 
before  that  baths  and  water-bags,  abundant 
linen,  and  such  like  necessities,  were  costly 
luxuries  to  many  people.  He  supposed  every- 
body had  them  naturally.  Then  the  kindness 
of  those  people  toward  each  other  had  its 


22  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

own  irresistible  pathos.  Every  neighbor 
came  with  something  to  offer  out  of  her 
poverty,  and  the  men  in  their  wordless, 
heavy  sympathy,  moved  him  most. 

The  young  man's  mother,  coming  from 
her  own  house,  had  sat  by  the  window,  ap- 
parently apathetic,  all  through  the  night,  with 
a  face  livid  like  the  face  of  death.  It  was 
whispered  that  she  was  suffering  physical 
agony  of  a  quite  indescribable  degree,  the 
paroxysms  of  an  internal  and  hopeless  disease. 
"She  always  has  her  spells,"  her  son's  wife 
said  quietly,  "when  she  gets  overdone,  and 
she  has  mopped  out  the  factory  now  three 
days  running.  It's  real  heavy  work.  She 
hadn't  ought  to  do  it,  not  with  cancer  in  the 
stomach,  you  know." 

Decidedly  not,  Holt  had  murmured,  with 
an  irrepressible  groan,  man  though  he  was, 
growing  wan  with  the  thought. 

As  the  night  wore  on,  he  had  looked  with 
a  certain  curiosity  at  his  surroundings.  The 
little  tenement  was  tidy  and  clean,  but  it 
had  no  soft  carpets  nor  cushioned  couches, 


MURRAY  HOLT  23 

nor  embroidered  pillows ;  the  walls  were 
bare,  save  a  gaudy  chromo  without  a  frame, 
and  a  marriage  certificate  in  a  frame  of  fad- 
ing gilt ;  there  was  a  table  in  the  front  room 
which  boasted  a  red  cloth,  a  painted  plate, 
and  an  album.  Plainly,  however,  this  was 
considered  a  tasteful  and  comparatively  lux- 
urious interior.  This  young  couple  had 
"  had  it  easy  "  so  far  in  life,  all  the  neighbors 
said.  The  gunsmith  got  good  wages  and 
they  were  paying  for  their  half  of  the  house 
little  by  little  « at  the  loan."  If  this  should 
be  accomplished,  Holt  perceived,  the  ultimate 
height  of  life  would  have  been  attained. 
There  was  nothing  beyond.  Perhaps  this 
perception  gave  him  a  keener  pang  than 
any  other.  He  had  talked  much  himself  of 
"the  strenuous  life,"  and  he  now  realized 
that  he  had  never  known  it.  He  could 
work  hard  in  his  own  way,  but  he  could 
always  return  at  will  to  the  associations  and 
belongings  of  ease  and  luxury.  Intellectual 
intercourse,  art,  poetry,  travel,  music,  flowers, 
shining  cleanliness,  delicate  food, — all  these 


24  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

things  had  belonged  tacitly,  unconsciously, 
to  his  scheme  of  things.  At  this  moment 
he  hated  them  all  with  a  blind,  boyish,  un- 
reasoning revulsion  inevitable  to  an  untried 
nature,  at  once  profoundly  earnest  and  abso- 
lutely honest. 

It  was  not  that  Holt  had  never  seen 
poverty  and  suffering  before.  He  thought  he 
knew  them  well.  He  had  come  to  the  Old 
North  Church  of  Heathfield,  indeed,  because 
he  was  told  that,  while  the  two  great  manu- 
facturers, Mr.  Binney  and  Mr.  Cornpton,  were 
among  its  members,  the  church  in  its  tone 
was  somewhat  democratic,  and  might  give  a 
man  a  chance  to  do  something  toward  bridg- 
ing the  chasm  between  rich  and  poor.  Heath- 
field  had  changed  in  these  later  years  from  a 
quiet  residence  town  to  something  of  a  manu- 
facturing centre,  and  the  population  among 
the  operative  class  was  rapidly  increasing, 
and  to  some  extent  was  altering  the  social  life 
of  the  Old  North  Church. 

The  costly  luxury  of  the  manse  was  none 
of  Holt's  choosing.  He  had  found  his  resi- 


MUEKAY  HOLT  25 

dence  ready  furnished  by  the  church  when  he 
came  to  Heathfield  less  than  a  year  before. 
He  could  not  withhold  appreciation  of  what 
had  been  done  for  him,  and  until  the  present 
hour  he  had  enjoyed  with  little  question  the 
rich,  harmonious  dignity  and  beauty  of  his 
abode.  He  was  experiencing  now  the  fierce, 
hand-to-hand  grip  of  that  which  he  had  only 
seen  at  a  distance  before  —  the  grim  facts  of 
labor  and  poverty,  the  world's  width  between 
luxury  and  want. 

With  face  growing  stern  and  gray,  and  his 
hands  cold  and  interlocked  hard  behind  him, 
he  turned  on  his  heel  and  began  to  pace  the 
room.  Steps  were  heard  in  the  hall  outside, 
and  some  one  knocked  at  his  door.  Opening 
the  door  Holt  found  himself  confronted  by  a 
man  far  below  his  own  height,  of  delicate 
build,  with  keen,  discerning  eyes,  well-cut 
features,  and  a  short,  carefully  trimmed  gray 
beard. 

"  Oh,  Dr.  Cushier,"  he  said  without  a  smile. 
"  How  is  Mrs.  Fisher  ?  Will  you  come 
in?" 


26  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

"  No,  thanks.  She  will  have  to  keep  still 
for  a  week  or  two  probably.  It  is  malaria. 
How  are  you,  Mr.  Holt?  You  look  rather 
done  for  yourself.  It  was  a  bad  affair  down 
at  the  works."  The  doctor  looked  keenly  at 
his  pastor  while  speaking. 

"  I  am  all  right,  thank  you,"  said  the  other, 
briefly. 

"This  illness  of  Mrs.  Fisher  makes  it  a 
little  awkward  for  you  here,"  persisted  the 
doctor,  kindly.  "  Come  up  to  our  house  for 
a  few  days.  We  shall  be  alone  this  week; 
Gladys  is  off  again  to-morrow." 

«  Thank  you,  Doctor,  I  am  afraid  I  could 
not  manage  it." 

"  Then  come  to  dinner  to-morrow  night,  at 
least ;  I  won't  take  no  for  an  answer  to  that." 

"  All  right.     Very  well.     I'll  come." 

As  the  doctor  left  the  house,  well  knowing 
that  Holt  accepted  his  invitation  only  to  free 
himself  from  his  persistence,  the  young  man 
threw  himself  upon  a  broad  sofa,  and  in 
another  moment  was  heavily  asleep. 

The  doctor  as  he  crossed  the  lawn  was  say- 


MURRAY  HOLT  27 

ing  to  himself ;  "  We  shall  have  to  keep  an 
eye  upon  you,  young  man.  You  are  worse  off 
at  this  minute  than  your  housekeeper.  I 
always  held  that  that  house  might  not  be 
healthy.  That  mediaeval  business  is  very 
pretty  for  a  photograph,  but  it's  death  on 
folks." 


CHAPTER   III 

A    LITTLE    HARMLESS    FAMILY    FRICTION 

"  I  HOPE  you  will  enjoy  your  walk,"  said 
Mrs.  Cushier  to  the  trim  nurse  who  passed 
her  on  the  shaded  veranda,  a  parasol  in  one 
hand  and  a  large  basket  in  the  other.  With 
a  composed  smile  and  words  of  thanks  the 
nurse  turned  and  tripped  down  the  long  walk 
to  the  gate,  proceeding  in  the  direction  of 
Heathfield. 

The  Cushiers'  house,  a  low,  rambling  brown 
cottage  with  a  square  tower,  and  a  pictur- 
esque red  roof,  was  set  in  a  charming,  old- 
fashioned  garden,  just  at  the  outer  limits  of 
the  town.  From  the  level  of  this  garden  rose 
a  low  hill  on  which  stood  a  white  and  shining 
Italian  villa,  very  new  and  very  large,  the 
Compton  residence,  whose  marble-pillared 
loggia  looked  down  upon  the  square  brown 


A  LITTLE  HAEMLESS  FAMILY  FKICTION     29 

tower  in  which  Gladys  Cushier  had  her  own 
bright  and  breezy  chamber. 

Mrs.  Cushier  wore  her  bonnet  and  she  also 
carried  a  parasol.  It  was  July,  and  the  early 
afternoon  was  uncomfortably  warm.  In  the 
open  door  of  the  house,  in  a  cool  white  gown, 
stood  her  daughter  Gladys.  Mrs.  Cushier 
was  flushed  and  anxious.  Her  daughter 
was  neither,  but  there  was  a  touch  of  de- 
termination in  the  little  upward  tilt  of  her 
chin. 

"  I  cannot  quite  see,  dear  mamma,"  she 
said,  continuing  a  dialogue  which  the  nurse's 
exit  had  interrupted,  "how  you  can  suggest 
such  a  thing.  Even  /  should  consider  it  — 
why,  impossible,  you  know."  • 

"  There  is  nothing  indelicate  about  it  what- 
ever, Glee,"  replied  Mrs.  Cushier,  with  slight 
asperity.  "  You  must  know  there  is  not  or  I 
should  not  ask  you.  He  is  quite  convalescent, 
dressed  as  usual,  can  move  about  his  sitting- 
room, —  everything  of  the  kind.  And  here 
you,  the  daughter  of  his  physician,  of  his 
parishioners,  of  his  host,  will  not  so  much  as 


30  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

sit  an  hour  or  two  with  him  to  read  aloud 
and  see  that  he  has  what  he  needs !  I  call  it 
simply  prudish,  and,  I  must  add,  Gladys,  dis- 
tinctly disobliging." 

"  I  hate  being  disobliging,  dearest,"  said 
Glee,  with  an  affectionate  and  very  slightly 
penitent  little  motte,  "and  it  seems  rather 
new,  doesn't  it,  for  me  to  be  prudish  ?  "  and 
she  could  not  forbear  her  low,  mischievous 
laughter.  "  I  will  do  anything  else  to  help 
you,  little  mamma,  but  I  feel  my  vocation  at 
last  so  plainly  declared  !  I  am  to  be  the  one 
woman  in  Heathfield  who  neither  runs  after 
the  Reverend  Murray  Holt,  nor  walks  after 
him,  nor  even  sits  beside  him.  You  see  I 
really  have  a  species  of  mortal  antipathy  to  a 
man  so  run  after.  But  I  have  an  idea,"  she 
cried  with  a  sudden  burst  of  confident  zeal, 
"  let  me  lead  the  Mothers'  Meeting !  I  would 
far  rather,  and  at  least  I  could  give  them 
points  on  disobedient  daughters." 

"  Oh,  Glee,  how  absurd ! "  cried  her  mother, 
impatiently.  « You  are  just  wasting  time 
when  you  know  what  a  hurry  I  am  in." 


A  LITTLE  HARMLESS  FAMILY  FRICTION     31 

"  Then  I  tell  you,"  replied  Glee.  « I'll  go 
over  and  get  Cecil.  That's  the  very  thing. 
She  would  adore  to  sit  with  Mr.  Holt." 

"  But  you  don't  consider  it  proper,  I  thought, 
for  a  girl  to  sit  with  him  en  tete-drtete  f "  re- 
torted her  mother,  quickly. 

"  It  is  just  as  one  feels  about  those 
things,"  said  Glee,  pursing  up  her  lips  a  bit 
and  trying  to  fence.  "  I  have  that  delicate, 
maidenly  shrinking,  don't  you  know  ?  —  from 
being  left  for  a  long  afternoon  with  this  par- 
son-person, which  makes  it  decidedly  not  the 
thing — for  me!  Cecil,  on  the  other  hand, 
would  jump  at  the  chance." 

"  Indeed  she  would,"  murmured  Mrs.  Cushier, 
with  a  mildly  sarcastic  smile.  «  She  has  been 
working  for  it  ever  since  the  first  day  Mr. 
Holt  sat  up." 

"  Then  do,  for  sweet  mercy's  sake,  mamma, 
let  her  labors  be  rewarded.  She  would  make 
such  excellent  use  of  her  time." 

Mrs.  Cushier  nodded  a  vexed  but  emphatic 
assent.  « Only  too  good,"  she  said  shortly. 
"  I  utterly  object  to  throwing  those  twro  to- 


32  HOLT  OF   HEATHFIELD 

gether  in  this  intimate  fashion.  You  can  imag- 
ine yourself  what  it  may  lead  to." 

"  But  why  in  the  world  shouldn't  you  let  it 
lead  —  even  to  the  altar,  if  that's  the  place  you 
have  in  mind  ?  "  queried  Glee,  saucily. 

"Because,"  was  her  mother's  incomplete 
answer. 

"Why  not  let  Cecil  home  Mr.  Holt, 
mamma  ? "  pursued  Glee,  without  further  in- 
direction. «  What  are  you  saving  him  up  for  ? 
Not  for  me,  I  hope !  Indeed  /don't  want  him ; " 
and  Glee  laughed  again  with  merry  vnsoucumce. 

"Imagine  having  Cecil  Compton  for  our 
minister's  wife ! "  said  Mrs.  Cushier,  with 
disapproval  of  an  evident  sincerity.  « I  am 
very  fond  of  Cecil,  of  course,  but  she  is  not 
the  right  sort  for  a  minister's  wife,  and  you 
know  that  just  as  well  as  I  do,  Glee.  Besides, 
it  would  make  any  amount  of  trouble  in  the 
church  if  Mr.  Holt  married  at  all." 

«  Yes,"  replied  Glee,  with  great  gravity,  "  of 
course  that  is  so.  He  would  lose  his  immense 
popularity  among  the  marriageable  girls.  All 
those  he  did  not  marry  would  lay  it  up  against 


A  LITTLE   HAKMLESS  FAMILY  FRICTION     33 

him,  and  as  he  can't  very  well,  with  our  Occi- 
dental restrictions,  marry  more  than  one,  there 
would  be  only  one  on  his  side.  Poor  man! 
He  is  in  a  hard  place." 

"  I  understand,  Glee,"  said  her  mother,  with 
dignity,  "that  you  are  poking  fun  at  me  as 
well  as  at  Mr.  Holt,  but  it  makes  no  difference. 
Facts  are  facts,  and  an  unmarried  man  in  the 
ministry  has  far  more  attraction  than  a 
married  one." 

"  But  haven't  I  heard  that  Mr.  Holt  has  no 
idea  of  marrying  at  all  ?  That  he  is  married 
to  his  profession  ?  "  asked  Glee,  with  much  se- 
riousness. "  Dear  man  !  How  touching  !  It 
adds,  doesn't  it  ? "  and  she  set  her  charming 
head  on  one  side  and  looked  at  her  mother 
with  eyes  full  of  mischief. 

"  Glee,"  said  Mrs.  Cushier,  severely,  "  if  you 
would  sit  with  your  pastor  for  an  hour,  if  you 
could  once  even  see  the  man,  you  would  cease 
your  ridicule.  If  Mr.  Holt  has  any  such  ideas, 
which  I  am  sure  nobody  ever  heard  him 
express,  it  is  because  he  is  so  thoroughly  in 
earnest." 


34  HOLT   OF   HEATHFIELD 

"Don't  you  think,  mamma  dear,  that  that 
makes  it  quite  safe  for  Cecil  ?  It  seems  to  me 
such  high  ideals  as  his  might  stand  two  hours 
of  Cecil's  company !  And  when  you  think  of 
the  privilege,  the  joy  it  will  be  to  her,  why 
then  —  " 

"Run  along  then,  if  you  must,"  said  Mrs. 
Cushier,  ill  pleased,  but  forced  to  consent,  since 
the  carriage  wheels  already  crunched  the  drive- 
way gravel.  "  But  understand,  you  wilful  girl, 
that  if  Cecil  can't  come,  you  will  have  to  do  it 
yourself.  I  can  have  no  more  argument." 

"  Cecil  will  come,  mamma ! "  Glee  called 
back  confidently,  as  she  ran  swiftly  across  the 
lawn  and  on  by  a  long,  box-bordered  path 
which  led  through  the  Cushiers'  old-fashioned 
garden  to  the  Comptons'  tennis-court. 

Mrs.  Cushier  watched  the  girl's  airy  figure  in 
its  light-footed  progress  over  the  sloping  lawn, 
until  it  disappeared  in  the  avenue  leading  to 
the  white  fa$ade  of  the  Compton  villa.  An  old- 
English  "  pleached  alley  "  following  the  line  of 
that  progress  was  a  fond  and  favorite  dream 
of  her  motherly  imagination  ;  a  grassy  lane, 


A  LITTLE   HARMLESS   FAMILY  FRICTION     35 

flower-bordered,  down  which,  it  might  be, 
little  feet  should  dance  in  the  years  to  come. 
That  imaginary  pleached  alley  always  stood 
in  Mrs.  Cashier's  mind  as  the  symbol  of  her 
hope  of  keeping  her  only  child  always  beside 
her,  and  of  a  close  union  of  the  two  families 
long  allied  by  neighborly  kindness. 

It  was  now  three  weeks  since  the  night 
when  Murray  Holt,  obedient  to  Doctor  Cush- 
ier's  invitation,  had  come  out  there  to  dinner 
with  the  "  fever-frost"  already  on  him,  though 
he  did  not  know  it.  The  big,  strong  fellow 
had  been  seized  at  dinner  with  a  hard  chill, 
and  almost  without  his  knowledge  or  consent 
had  been  packed  off  to  bed  in  the  Cushiers' 
guest  apartment.  There  he  had  lain  ever  since, 
out  of  kindness  and  pity  on  the  part  of  his 
hosts,  of  necessity  on  his  own  part,  since 
where  else  could  he  go,  Heathfield  having  no 
hospital  and  his  housekeeper  also  being  ill  ? 

Although  sharp  in  access  the  fever  had 
proved  easily  controllable  by  the  wise  doctor, 
and  already  Holt  was  convalescent. 

Meanwhile,  ten  days  since,  Gladys  Cushier 


36  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

had  returned  from  her  house-party  to  find  her 
father's  house  given  over  to  the  tiresome  needs 
of  an  alien,  and  an  alien  toward  whom  she  her- 
self cherished  a  fixed  prejudice.  All  the  gayeties 
to  which  she  had  looked  forward  to  celebrate 
her  home-coming  were  sacrificed  to  "this  ever- 
lasting petted  and  pampered  parson,"  as  she 
styled  him  privately.  The  house  was  hushed,  its 
occupants  all  preoccupied  with  the  persona  non 
grata.  Decidedly  the  daughter  of  the  house 
resented  it. 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE    FACE    AT    THE    WINDOW 

«  GLEE  !  What  makes  you  in  such  a  dash- 
ing hurry  ?  Stop  a  bit." 

"  I  can't,  Larry,  can't,  honestly." 

The  girl,  emerging  from  a  side  entrance 
of  the  Compton  villa,  was  softly  gliding 
through  the  broad  colonnade  where  Laurence 
Compton  sat  smoking.  He  was  at  her  side 
in  an  instant. 

"What  is  the  matter?" 

He  was   crossing  the  lawn  with  her  now. 

"  Matter  enough.  I  never  knew  worse. 
Really,  it  is  the  limit." 

"  Hurry  and  tell  me." 

"  I  am  doomed  to  sit  this  whole  long  after- 
noon and  prattle  to  the  only  man  I  have 
ever  truly  hated." 

«  Holt  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he  and  not  another." 

37 


38  HOLT  OF   HEATHFIELD 

"  Where's  the  nurse  ?  " 

"  Gone  for  her  constitutional,  according  to 
the  laws  of  the  Merles  and  Persians  which 
alter  not." 

"And  your  mother?" 

"Oh,  a  Mothers'  Meeting  which  she  had 
utterly  forgotten  until  lunch-time.  She  had 
to  prepare  in  a  great  hurry.  Then  I  ran 
over  to  get  Cecil." 

"  And  Madame  Perrure  is  here  ?  " 

"Precisely.  With  five  gowns  to  try  on 
before  five-fifteen,  and  there  you  have  it." 

"  Hard  on  Cecil !    I  fancy  she  tore  her  hair." 

"  I  call  that  brotherly  tact,  but  to  tell  the 
truth,  Larry,  she  did." 

"  Of  course  she  did,"  and  Compton  tossed 
away  the  end  of  his  cigar  and  opened  the 
low  gate  in  the  hedge  which  divided  the 
two  estates.  For  a  single  moment  they  stood 
together  at  the  gate,  Glee  with  her  curly  hair 
blowing  about,  her  piquant  face  with  its 
merry  eyes  lifted  to  the  look  of  gentle,  well- 
bred  concern  fixed  upon  her.  Laurence 
Compton's  manner,  like  his  profile,  was 


THE  FACE  AT   THE   WINDOW  39 

always  admitted  to  be  perfect,  and  the  girl 
distinctly  liked  both.  There  was  a  vague 
but  keen  expectation  in  the  two  families 
that  this  summer  would  witness  the  culmi- 
nation of  the  long-drawn  and  still  indefinite 
relation  between  him  and  his  charming 
neighbor. 

"  I  wish  I  could  help  you  out,  little  girl." 

Glee  flushed  at  the  last  words.  What 
right  had  he  to  speak  to  her  like  this?  and 
yet  she  half  liked  it  that  he  took  the  right. 
She  reminded  herself  that  he  was  ten  years 
older,  and  had  known  her  all  her  life. 

Just  then,  glancing  past  him  to  escape 
his  eyes,  which  did  not  mean  to  let  her 
escape,  Glee  caught  sight  of  something  that 
startled  her.  At  an  open  upper  window 
in  her  father's  house,  beyond  the  interven- 
ing garden,  a  man's  face,  in  still,  set  outline, 
was  visible. 

The  window  was  thickly  framed  in  vines, 
and  faded  roses  swung  across  its  dark,  open 
square,  but  they  failed  to  conceal  that  wan, 
almost  spectral  face  with  its  steadfast,  for- 


40  HOLT  OF   HEATHFIELD 

ward  gaze,  wholly  averted  from  herself.  The 
features  were  rugged  and  unbeautiful ;  how 
unlike  those  of  the  man  at  her  side !  The 
startling  thing  was  that  through  the  physical 
weakness  so  obvious  upon  them,  there  shone 
out  in  sharp  contrast  an  inward  strength  of 
some  kind,  —  what  kind  was  it  ?  Glee  could 
not  tell,  only  she  knew  that  it  was  a  look 
she  never  had  seen  in  just  that  degree.  A 
hand  lay  along  the  broad  window-sill  —  a 
big,  bony,  bleached,  man's  hand.  It  lay 
so  weakly,  its  power  so  inadequate  to  its 
proportions;  it  seemed  to  tell  a  whole  story 
in  a  second  of  time.  It  was  a  story  with 
a  touch  of  pathos  in  it,  too,  which  for  all 
her  light  and  merry  mood  sent  a  quick 
pang  to  the  girl's  heart  and  made  her  eyes 
tender.  "  I  wonder,"  she  was  thinking,  "  if 
that  is  what  he  is  like." 

They  passed  through  the  gate. 

"Well,  never  mind,  Larry,"  said  Glee, 
« I  shall  live  through  it  probably.  I  have 
youth  in  my  favor,  you  know,"  and  she  smiled. 

Compton,    whose    back    was    toward    the 


THE  FACE  AT  THE  WINDOW  41 

house,  wondered  at  the  subtle  change  in  her 
mood  for  all  her  drolling.  He  dimly  felt 
that  the  firm,  fresh  force  of  her  resistance 
to  the  situation  was  spent,  and  that  some- 
what suddenly.  She  meanwhile  was  receiv- 
ing, as  they  passed  down  the  box-bordered 
walk,  the  first  faint  stirring  of  a  desire  to 
come  into  the  presence  of  the  man  whose 
face  they  both  now  saw  plainly.  It  would, 
after  all,  be  rather  interesting  than  otherwise, 
she  reflected,  but  her  reflection  was  quickly 
interrupted.  Compton  had  caught  a  glance 
and  a  motion  of  the  hand  from  the  window 
above,  for  their  approach  was  now  observed. 

"Excuse  me,  Glee,  I  think  Mr.  Holt  wants 
to  speak  with  me." 

With  this  Compton  turned  rapidly  into 
another  path  leading  to  the  side  of  the  low, 
rambling  house,  while  the  girl  joined  her 
mother  at  the  front,  where  she  was  now 
seated  in  the  carriage. 

Before  there  was  time  to  explain  Compton 
appeared. 

"Mr.  Holt  has  chosen  me  for  his  compan- 


42  HOLT   OF   HEATHFIELD 

ion,  Glee,"  he  said,  smiling.  "You  see  I 
can  help  you  this  time,  after  all.  I  put  my- 
self willingly  in  your  place.  In  fact  I  would 
do  more  than  that  for  you,  wouldn't  I,  Mrs. 
Cushier  ?  " 

"Did  he  propose  it?"  asked  both  ladies 
at  once. 

"Yes,  really.  He  says  he  is  going  to  do 
a  bit  of  writing  presently,  for  which  he 
would  rather  be  alone  than  to  have  any  one 
about,  much  as  he  appreciates  everybody's 
kindness.  Now  for  a  while,  perhaps  an  hour 
or  so,  he  invites  me  to  sit  with  him.  Shall 
I  go  up  directly  ?  " 

"How  simply  fine,"  murmured  Glee,  with 
forced  enthusiasm. 

"Thank  you  so  much,  Laurence.  You 
are  sure  you  can  spare  the  time  ? "  said  Mrs. 
Cushier,  politely,  and  so  saying  drove  off  well 
satisfied. 

Compton  disappeared  up  the  stairs,  and 
Glee,  having  her  own  way  and  her  afternoon 
wholly  to  herself,  was  surprised  to  find  her- 
self not  better  pleased. 


THE  FACE  AT  THE  WINDOW  43 

«It  is  Emerson,  I  believe,"  she  said  to 
herself,  "  who  says  that  with  consistency  a 
great  soul  has  nothing  whatever  to  do.  Pos- 
sibly I  am  a  great  soul.  It  begins  to  look 
like  it." 

Before  Glee  had  time  to  enter  the  house 
a  boy  came  up  the  walk  and  handed  her 
a  long  florist's  box.  It  was  addressed  to 
Mr.  Holt. 

"  In  the  absence  of  the  nurse  and  mamma 
I  suppose  I  ought  to  take  care  of  the  flowers," 
thought  Glee,  dismally  remembering  that 
every  vase  in  the  house  had  been  filled  al- 
ready and  sent  up  to  the  sick  man's  room. 

Resorting  to  the  china-closet  she  brought 
forth  and  filled  with  water  a  cut-glass  berry- 
dish  which  she  placed  on  the  veranda  table. 
Then  sitting  down  beside  it  she  opened  the 
box,  which  contained  exactly  five  dozen 
superb  La  France  roses.  First  of  all,  woman- 
like, she  fished  out  the  card. 

The  card  was  enclosed  in  an  envelope  which 
was  closely  sealed  and  addressed  in  a  lady's 
hand. 


44  HOLT   OF  HEATHFIELD 

"Oh,  yes,"  flouted  Glee,  tossing  up  her 
chin,  "  I  know  your  kind,  and  there  are  as 
many  of  you  as  there  are  of  your  roses.  If 
Mr.  Holt  were  middle-aged  and  married  how 
many  roses  would  he  get,  I  wonder  ?  A 
man  who  likes  that  kind  of  thing  — "  but 
here  her  meditation  was  broken  by  the  Comp- 
tons'  colored  coachman,  who  came  around 
the  house  bearing  an  immaculate  white  bas- 
ket of  late  strawberries  from  the  green- 
houses. 

"  Shall  I  set  them  down  here,  Miss 
Cushier  ?  "  he  asked  with  a  patient  smile ; 
"they's  for  the  Reverend  Holt." 

He  had  come  on  these  errands  exceeding 
often  during  the  past  three  weeks. 

"Yes,  Peter,  right  there  on  the  stand," 
said  Glee,  cheerfully.  "  I'll  see  that  '  the  Rev- 
erend Holt'  gets  them  all  right,"  and  she 
went  on  with  her  roses,  but  only  for  a  mo- 
ment, for  in  at  the  open  front  gates  a  phaeton 
was  turning,  in  which  sat  a  lady  in  deep 
mourning,  with  a  maiden,  pretty  and  exqui- 
sitely clad,  beside  her. 


THE  FACE  AT   THE   WINDOW  45 

Glee  rose  to  receive  the  visitors  with  a 
hypocritical  smile  of  welcome,  knowing  per- 
fectly that  they  cared  not  a  rush  to  see  her. 

They  were  the  mother  and  daughter  who 
had  lain  in  wait  for  Holt  after  church  on 
the  Sunday  before  he  was  taken  ill. 

It  was  palpable  that  the  visitors  had  ex- 
pected to  find  their  pastor  visible  by  this 
time,  and  the  pretty  girl  took  no  pains  to 
conceal  her  disappointment.  Her  mother  had 
brought  a  remarkable  new  brand  of  beef 
juice,  which  she  was  so  anxious  for  Mr.  Holt 
to  try.  It  was  so  upbuilding.  She  hoped  he 
would  not  think  her  too  practical,  but  she 
knew  there  would  be  enough  to  bring  him 
flowers,  etc.,  etc. 

At  last  they  were  off,  toilettes,  apologies, 
disappointments,  and  all.  Glee  made  haste  to 
get  her  last  rose  stem  into  the  water,  and  to 
nestle  the  sealed  note  cunningly  among  the 
flowers,  and  started  into  the  house  with  the 
bowl.  But  again  she  heard  wheels.  An  ex- 
press wagon  drove  in  now  and  the  driver 
delivered  a  great  box  from  Favor's,  the  Broad- 


46  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

way  florist.  Glee  submissively  put  down  her 
bowl,  wrote  Mr.  Holt's  name  in  the  yellow- 
leaved  book,  and  unfastened  the  box.  Orchids 
this  time,  startling  and  uncanny,  Glee  thought 
them,  and  retreated,  closing  the  house  door 
after  her  with  decision. 

"I've  sat  at  the  receipt  of  custom  long 
enough,"  she  said  to  herself.  "  Clara  can 
take  care  of  the  procession  after  this.  No 
wonder  she  says,  poor  girl,  that  it  takes  one 
person's  time  to  look  after  the  things  that  are 
sent  to  Mr.  Holt.  But  how  I  do  despise 
women  who  pursue  a  man  after  this  sort,  and 
yet  more,  the  type  of  man  who  draws  to  him- 
self this  particular  kind  of  homage !  He 
poses  as  a  kind  of  clerical  hero,  evidently,  but 
the  kind  to  whom  flattery  is  as  the  breath  of 
their  nostrils.  He  must  be  at  heart  a  ram- 
pant egoist,  and  yet  — "  the  glimpse  of  the 
parson's  face  at  the  window  suddenly  re- 
curred to  her  memory.  "  He  did  not  look  it," 
she  concluded. 

By  this  time  Glee  had  reached  the  upper 
hall,  the  bowl  of  roses  in  her  hands,  the 


THE   FACE  AT   THE  WINDOW  47 

strawberry  basket  dangling  from  two  fingers 
underneath  the  roses,  the  box  of  orchids  under 
one  arm,  the  can  of  beef  juice  securely  tucked 
under  the  other,  and  the  front  of  her  dress 
skirt  nipped  between  her  white  teeth. 

The  wide  upper  hall  was  dusky  and  dim 
with  shade. 

Not  a  sound  broke  the  hushed  silence.  On 
the  right  a  door  stood  half  open  into  Mr. 
Holt's  sitting-room.  Glee  stood  irresolute, 
her  skirt  dropping  from  her  teeth.  Should 
she  proceed  to  tap  at  the  open  door  of  that 
shrine  and  place  before  its  divinity  the  latest 
consignment  of  his  incense,  retreating  then 
with  haste,  demure  and  cold  as  a  mere  mes- 
senger ?  That  would  seem  the  natural  thing 
to  do.  Her  mother  would  have  delivered 
these  things  as  a  matter  of  course.  But  she 
was  not  her  mother.  She  had  proposed  to 
herself  never  to  enter  that  room  while  the 
unwelcome  guest  remained.  She  knew  that 
he  had  flowers  galore,  and  notes  galore  al- 
ready, likewise  beef  juice.  Much  incense 
had  been  burned  in  the  morning  hours.  It 


48  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

would  not  hurt  him  to  wait  a  bit.  Besides, 
—  here  Glee  placed  her  bowl  of  roses  and 
the  strawberries  on  a  table  and  sank  into 
a  low  armchair,  letting  her  other  burdens 
drop  by  her  side,  —  it  was  so  deadly  still. 
She  could  not  enter  in  this  strange,  insistent 
silence. 

Then  as  she  sat  and  the  warm  summer 
stillness  remained  like  a  spell  unbroken,  Glee 
began  to  fancy  something  uncanny,  even  sin- 
ister, in  its  quality.  There  was  absolutely 
no  sound  or  motion  on  the  whole  upper 
floor  of  the  house  save  the  tick-tock  of  the 
tall  old  clock  in  the  corner  and  the  vibration 
of  her  own  quickened  breath. 

How  could  those  two  men  be  so  still? 
The  moments  passed.  A  strange  uneasiness 
mastered  Glee's  imagination.  Not  so  much 
as  a  syllable  or  a  rustle  came  from  that 
half-opened  door.  What  could  be  passing 
behind  it? 


CHAPTER   V 

THE    LITTLE    FIEND 

FIVE  minutes  more  of  utter  silence  still 
found  Glee  sitting  outside  of  the  door  of 
Murray  Holt's  room.  She  resolved  to  wait 
no  longer  but  see  for  herself  if  all  were  well, 
when  a  deep  voice  of  a  quiet,  harmonious 
resonance  pronounced  a  single  word,  which 
she  heard  distinctly  where  she  sat. 

«  Check ! " 

Glee  sank  back,  covering  her  face  with  her 
hands,  shaking  with  the  laughter  of  relief 
from  nervous  tension. 

Again  the  word  was  spoken  :  "  Check." 

Then  there  was  the  rattle  of  a  swoop 
among  the  chessmen  and  the  same  voice  said, 
laughing :  — 

"Mate  this  time,  I  guess." 

"  For  sure,"  said  Compton's  voice.  "  You're 
an  old  hand  at  this  game,  I  see,  Mr.  Holt." 

a  49 


50  HOLT   OF   HEATHFIELD 

Chairs  were  pushed  back  and  there  was  a 
variety  of  reassuring  and  natural  noises. 

By  this  time  Glee  had  become  inured  to 
her  occupation  of  justifiable  eavesdropping 
and  had  not  the  slightest  impulse  to  move 
from  her  place.  She  was  strangely  weary,  and 
glad  to  sit  motionless. 

«  You're  not  too  tired,  I  hope  ?  "  she  heard 
Compton  ask  civilly. 

"  I  think  not.     Shall  we  play  again  ?  " 

"  I  don't  believe  you're  fit." 

"  Well,  possibly  some  other  time  would  be 
better." 

Glee  was  sure  that  the  voice,  which  she 
knew  must  be  that  of  Mr.  Holt,  flagged  a 
little  at  each  utterance,  and  she  conjectured 
that  the  poor  fellow  was  tired.  But  now  he 
had  begun  to  speak  with  renewed  force. 

"Mr.  Compton,"  Glee  heard  him  distinctly, 
listening  with  unblushing  coolness  in  her 
place,  "I  have  wanted  a  little  chance  to  talk 
with  you  about  some  of  the  tenants  in  those 
Foundry  Street  blocks.  They  belong  to  the 
Company,  I  think." 


THE  LITTLE  FIEND  51 

"  The  Company  has  property,  I  believe,  Mr. 
Holt,  on  Foundry  Street,"  was  the  reply  in  a 
light,  negligent  tone. 

"  Pardon  me  if  I  seem  intruding  in  other 
men's  matters,  but  for  the  last  six  months  a 
man  by  the  name  of  Mullens  has  been  running 
a  gambling  place  on  the  second  floor  of  that 
corner  building,  which  I  am  sure  you  do  not 
know  about.  It  is  doing  a  terrible  work 
among  the  young  men  and  boys  in  the  works. 
It  is  mighty  hard  for  the  church  to  get  hold 
of  the  young  men  of  Heathfield  while  such 
places  are  running  full  blast."  There  was  a 
slight  tremor  as  of  increased  weakness  in  the 
voice. 

Glee  heard  a  little  whistle ;  the  tune  was 
from  "CavalleriaRusticana";  the  whistler,  she 
perceived  from  the  sound,  was  moving  leisurely 
about  the  room. 

"  I  am  not  interested  in  social  reform 
affairs,  myself,  Mr.  Holt.  Odd,  isn't  it  ? 
There  is  such  a  fad  in  that  direction  nowa- 
days. And  you  see  I  leave  all  matters  con- 
nected with  rents  and  leases  wholly  to  my 


52  HOLT  OF   HEATHFIELD 

good  Mr.  Miller.  An  excellent  man,  exceed- 
ingly capable  and  conscientious.  You  may 
have  met  him  ?  " 

In  every  syllable  Glee  recognized  the  inflex- 
ible, unapproachable  coldness  of  the  great  mill- 
owner  on  his  hard,  business  side,  thinly 
disguised  though  it  was  in  careless  courtesy. 
With  a  woman's  piercing  intuition  she  knew 
that  Compton's  words  were  acting  like  a 
bodily  injury  to  the  other  man  in  his  physical 
prostration.  She  perceived,  moreover,  that  a 
great  hope  might  have  met  its  mortal  wound 
in  that  brief  space. 

Silence  fell,  but  only  for  an  instant,  for 
there  was  a  sudden  crash,  the  rattling  of 
chessmen  rolling  over  the  floor,  a  startled  ex- 
clamation from  Compton :  — 

"  Come  quick,  somebody  1 " 

Then  Glee,  entering  with  swift  steps,  saw 
in  the  deep  bay-window  behind  an  overturned 
chess-table,  stretched  half  across  a  sofa's  end, 
the  big,  gaunt  frame  of  a  young  man  with  a 
white,  unconscious  face.  In  the  middle  of  the 
room  Compton  stood  staring  helpless. 


THE  LITTLE  FIEND  53 

"  Hang  it  all ! "  he  said,  startled  out  of 
his  customary  elegant  carelessness.  "Why 
couldn't  the  fellow  have  said  he  was  getting 
played  out  ?  Oh,  it's  you,  Glee !  Good ! 
Can't  you  pour  something  on  his  forehead  ? 
By  Jove,  I  never  saw  a  man  collapse  like  that 
before ! " 

*###*## 

Glee's  eyes  ran  like  lightning  over  the 
serried  ranks  of  neatly  labelled  bottles  on  a 
chiffonier  hard  by.  Mechanically  she  had 
already  taken  in  the  bare  hospital-like  preci- 
sion and  *  emptiness  of  the  chamber,  trans- 
formed from  its  former  and  familiar  luxury  of 
decoration  and  furnishing.  Even  in  that  flash 
she  noted  that  there  was  not  a  flower  in  the 
room !  By  the  time  that  Compton  had  lifted 
Holt's  trailing  limbs  to  the  sofa  and  disposed 
his  head  on  a  flat  pillow,  she  was  at  his 
elbow,  a  bottle  of  spirits  of  ammonia  in  her 
hand. 

She  poured  a  few  drops  of  the  fluid  into  her 
palm  and  bathed  the  sick  man's  forehead,  then 
getting  frightened  at  the  persistent  rigidity  of 


54  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

his  face,  she  began  to  tremble  a  bit  and  hastily 
poured  a  copious  flood  of  the  pungent  spirits 
upon  head  and  brow  and  temples.  The  fumes 
penetrating  his  nostrils,  Holt  stirred  slightly, 
and  weakly  opened  his  eyes.  Catching  sight 
of  the  unfamiliar  outline  of  a  dark,  curly 
head  just  above  him  he  essayed  a  well-meant 
smile.  But  as  he  lifted  his  eyelids  the  gener- 
ous rivulets  of  ammonia  which  were  trickling 
down  his  temples  and  forehead  found  a  dozen 
channels  by  which  to  enter  his  eyes,  with  the 
result  that  in  an  incalculably  brief  interval  the 
man  was  in  the  clutch  of  a  fiery  torment. 

Compton  and  Glee  turned  pale  as  they  saw 
the  convulsive  action  with  which  the  poor 
fellow  pressed  both  hands  upon  his  eyeballs, 
his  head  rolling  from  side  to  side  on  the  pil- 
low, his  limbs  stiffened  with  the  intolerable 
anguish. 

"  Oh,  Larry ! "  groaned  Glee,  "  what  have  I 
done  ?  Run  quick  and  telephone  father. 
Can't  we  get  the  nurse  ?  Call  Clara.  Fly  !  " 

Compton  fled  to  the  telephone,  while  Glee 
stood  for  a  moment  beside  the  sofa,  her  con- 


THE  LITTLE  FIEND  55 

sciousness  almost  annihilated  at  the  effect  of 
her  own  blundering  carelessness.  Had  she 
put  the  man's  eyes  out? 

He  was  stiller  now :  great  drops  of  sweat 
stood  out  on  his  forehead,  which  like  his 
hands  was  seamed  with  heavy  cords  suddenly 
brought  to  the  surface.  Glee  was  satisfied 
that  he  was  almost  beyond  consciousness  again. 

In  a  desperation  which  produced  a  sudden 
calmness,  the  girl  procured  a  bowl  of  ice 
water  from  Clara,  who,  with  white,  scared 
face,  had  entered  the  room.  Below,  the  tele- 
phone bell  was  being  rung  furiously. 

Taking  her  own  gossamer  handkerchief 
Glee  knelt  now  by  the  sofa,  and  with  a 
hand  of  gentle,  remorseful  pity  bathed  the 
fiery  eyeballs  with  the  ice  water.  Presently 
she  could  see  that  she  was  bringing  some 
small  measure  of  relief.  A  long,  low  groan 
escaped  the  fiercely  compressed  lips,  and  then 
in  a  moment  came  with  a  certain  grim  humor 
the  words:  — 

"  Keep  it  up  ! " 

As  she  continued  the  icy  applications  Glee, 


56  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

for  all  her  wordless  misery,  noted  Holt's 
rugged,  though  emaciated,  face  and  frame ; 
the  strong  cheek  bones,  so  prominent  now ; 
the  hollow  cheeks  below ;  the  square  dogged 
chin  ;  the  powerful  athlete's  throat  and  chest ; 
the  muscular,  clenched  fists  lying  now  across 
his  breast,  telling,  more  than  his  face,  their 
story  of  what  he  suffered. 

Little  by  little  his  sense  of  things  was 
returning.  Plainly,  being  effectually  blind- 
folded, he  took  her  for  his  nurse. 

"  Thank  Heaven  you  have  come,"  he  mur- 
mured faintly. 

"  What — little — fiend — poured  —  that  fire 
into  my  eyes  ?  "  he  asked  in  another  moment, 
with  slow,  difficult  utterance.  There  was 
silence. 

"  What  did  he  —  do  it  — for  f  "  came  with 
a  certain  amazed  patience. 

Scalding  tears  were  rolling  down  Glee's 
cheeks  as  she  whispered,  "  He  was  a  horrid 
fiend,  but  he  is  dreadfully  sorry  now." 

«  He  ought  to  be,"  was  the  sententious  re- 
sponse. "  I  am." 


THE  LITTLE  FIEND  57 

There  was  a  fresh  paroxysm  of  pain  in 
which  he  pushed  Glee's  hands  intolerantly 
away,  and  for  all  his  will  to  be  silent  moaned 
in  the  maddening  torment.  Then,  as  if  in 
penitence,  he  grasped  her  hands  again  and 
held  them  fast  against  his  eyes,  murmuring, 
"  Such  good  hands  —  kind  hands  —  what  a 
comfort  to  get  you  back  —  you  will  never  go 
away  again  —  will  you  ?  " 

"  Never,"  lied  Glee  under  her  breath,  with 
tearful  alacrity. 

"  May  the  Lord  preserve  me  —  from  the 
tender  mercies —  of  that  —  fiend  —  henceforth 
—  and  —  what  comes  next  ?  " 

"And  even  forever,"  prompted  Glee,  sub- 
missively. 

"  Amen,"  groaned  Murray  Holt. 

The  minutes  seemed  endless  to  them 
both,  each  with  its  own  mastering  pain  to 
bear.  But  now  came  a  most  surprising 
question :  — 

«  Did  they  like  the  flowers  ?  " 

Glee,  speaking  wholly  at  random,  mur- 
mured, "  Oh,  so  much  !  Delighted  ! " 


58  HOLT   OF   HEATHFIELD 

"  That's  good  luck,  anyway.  I  hope  some 
more  have  come?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  she  replied,  eager  to  tell  the 
truth,  for  which  her  chances  just  now  seemed 
so  few.  "  The  loveliest  roses  and  orchids  you 
ever  saw." 

"  Great !  I  would  send  them,  to-morrow, 
to  those  Ship  Street  folks  —  will  you?" 

"Yes,  indeed." 

Glee  understood  the  flower  business  and  a 
certain  mysterious  basket  carried  by  the  nurse 
on  her  afternoon  walks  better  now ;  likewise 
the  bare  and  unadorned  chamber  of  "  the 
pampered  parson."  Fresh  compunction  visited 
her.  "Oh  dear,"  she  moaned,  forgetting  her- 
self, "  I  shall  certainly  die  of  a  guilty  con- 
science." 

Holt  now  for  the  first  time  detected  the 
fact  that  this  was  not  his  nurse's  voice.  He 
tried  to  open  his  eyes,  but  they  were  gently 
compressed  by  a  bandage  held  fast  by  a  firm, 
light  hand. 

Glee  heard  her  father's  step  on  the  stairs. 
Her  heart  bounded.  She  sprang  to  her  feet. 


THE  LITTLE  FIEND  59 

"  Who  in  the  world  is  this,  anyway  ? " 
muttered  Holt,  holding  fast  in  his  iron  grasp 
the  small  hand  which  still  lay  across  his 
eyes. 

"The  doctor  is  coming,"  whispered  Glee. 
"  You  will  be  all  right  now." 

"  I  don't  care  about  the  doctor,"  was  the 
curt  reply.  «  Who  is  the  nurse  ?  " 

Still  silence ;  Glee  standing  holding  his 
eyes  prisoners,  and  he,  her  hand. 

Then,  unnerved  by  all  that  she  had  under- 
gone, and  seeing  in  spite  of  herself  instinc- 
tively the  comic  side  of  the  situation,  the  girl 
broke  out  into  a  fit  of  rippling,  irresistible 
laughter. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  cried  Holt,  imperiously, 
when  her  brief  laughter  ended,  as  it  was 
bound  to  do,  in  fresh  tears. 

Doctor  Cushier  was  approaching  the  door. 
Compton  at  his  side  was  telling  him  the  sorry 
tale. 

"  I  am,  oh,  I  am  the  fiend  himself ! "  mur- 
mured Glee,  wresting  her  hand  from  his 
grasp. 


60  HOLT  OF   HEATHFIELD 

"  I  believe  you ! "  was  the  hearty  response, 
and  Holt  threw  both  long  arms  blindly  out 
in  an  involuntary,  boyish  movement  to  catch 
and  capture  his  bewildering  tormentor.  But 
she  had  fled  from  the  room. 


CHAPTER   VI 

CHECK 

A  WEEK  passed.  The  cause  and  causer  of 
his  painful  accident  remained  enveloped  in 
puzzling  uncertainty  to  the  Reverend  Murray 
Holt. 

Glee  had  met  her  father  in  the  hall  as  she 
fled  unseen  by  Holt  from  the  sickroom,  and 
had  bound  him  over,  as  also  Mr.  Compton,  to 
silence  concerning  her  part,  lot,  and  presence 
in  the  affair.  The  only  explanation,  there- 
fore, given  the  patient  was  that  he  had 
fainted  while  alone  with  Mr.  Compton,  and 
that  "one  of  the  girls  in  the  house,"  whom 
he  had  called  in  to  assist  him,  in  her  fright 
and  inexperience,  had  been  careless  in  using 
the  restoratives.  Unwilling  naturally  to  em- 
barrass his  kindly  and  hospitable  host  by 
further  inquiries  Holt  had  promptly  dropped 
the  matter  there.  He  could  not,  however,  so 

61 


62  HOLT   OF  HEATHFIELD 

promptly  banish  it  from  his  mind.  The 
double  identity  of  that  mysterious  person, 
who  seemed  to  be  at  once  his  mischievous 
destroyer  and  his  tender  nurse,  ceased  not  to 
give  him  food  for  provoking  conjecture. 
Echoes  of  that  piteous,  girlish  wail,  but  vaguely 
distinguished,  "  I  shall  die  of  a  guilty  con- 
science ! "  of  that  mocking,  inconsequent,  irre- 
pressible laughter  which  followed ;  the  touch 
of  light,  firm  fingers  on  his  burning  brow  and 
eyes ;  the  shape  of  a  delicate  wrist  held  hard 
in  his  own  hand;  the  last  half-smothered 
murmur,  "  I  am  the  little  fiend  himself ! "  — 
all  these  fragments  of  that  scene  of  confusion 
recurred  persistently  to  his  mind  in  the  slow, 
summer  days  through  which  he  sat  with 
bandaged  and  burning  eyes. 

The  general  devotion  to  the  sufferer  had 
been  redoubled.  Mrs.  Cushier  and  the  doctor 
had  attended  upon  him  assiduously ;  Compton 
had  offered  his  service  for  blindfold  chess 
games  with  obliging  and  slightly  remorseful 
good-nature,  while  his  sister  Cecil  had  atoned 
by  unremitting  attentions  for  her  inability  to 


CHECK  63 

sit  with  him  on  the  day  of  his  accident.  Her 
daily  readings  became  established,  and  Mrs. 
Cushier,  in  her  acute  sympathy  for  the  sufferer 
who  had  been  so  cruelly  dealt  with  by  some 
member  of  her  family,  she  could  not  learn 
whom,  waived  her  ingrained  dislike  to  Cecil's 
close  companionship  with  the  pastor  and  re- 
pressed all  inclination  to  cavil.  She  could 
not,  however,  quite  repress  a  sigh  when 
Cecil's  tall,  graceful  figure  in  its  perfection 
of  spotless  summer  raiment  swept  each  after- 
noon up  the  stairs  to  her  graceful  and  be- 
coming task,  while  Glee,  cold,  unresponsive, 
and  apparently  indifferent,  went  about  her 
own  personal  avocations  all  unmoved. 

Mrs.  Cushier  did  not  desire  Glee  to  become 
seriously  interested  in  the  young  clergyman ; 
the  "pleached  alley,"  led  in  quite  another 
direction,  but  with  the  instinct  of  maternal 
jealousy  she  did  not  enjoy  seeing  another 
bearing  away  a  meed  of  gratitude  and  ad- 
miration which  should  naturally  have  fallen 
to  her  child. 

As  for  Glee,  she  had  become  enigmatic   to 


64  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

her  kinsfolk  and  acquaintances.  Her  father 
and  Compton  alone  held  the  key  to  her  condi- 
tion. The  radiant  brightness  of  her  face  had 
vanished  along  with  her  gay  and  piquant  merri- 
ment. She  grew  pale  and  languid  ;  an  anxious 
little  pucker  had  taken  up  its  dwelling-place 
between  her  dark  eyebrows  ;  while  her  eyes  in 
their  glassy  weariness  often  seemed  to  speak 
of  long  night-watches.  For  the  fact  was  that 
beneath  her  apparent  coolness  Glee  was  con- 
sumed with  anxiety  for  Murray  Holt  and 
the  consequences  to  him  of  her  wretched 
blunder. 

However,  the  days  brought  speedy  ease  from 
pain,  and  rapid  healing,  so  that  in  a  week,  his 
strength  now  almost  recovered,  and  only  weak- 
ness of  vision  left  apparently  as  trace  of  his 
accident,  Holt  dismissed  his  nurse  and  pre- 
pared to  depart  from  his  pleasant  haven.  The 
doctor,  however,  insisted  upon  his  remaining 
two  or  three  days  longer,  that  he  might  keep 
a  close  watch  on  his  eyes. 

The  nurse  being  gone,  Holt,  as  a  declaration 
of  independence,  announced  that  he  should 


CHECK  65 

come  down  for  the  first  time  to  luncheon 
that  day. 

"  At  last,  Glee,  you  will  have  to  meet 
your  pastor,"  said  Mrs.  Cushier,  hovering  over 
the  lunch-table  and  adjusting  certain  details. 
"  Who  could  have  believed  that  that  blessed 
man  could  have  spent  four  weeks  in  our  house 
and  you  never  once  have  seen  his  face !  And 
how  many  little  services  you  might  have  ren- 
dered him  !  Look  at  Cecil !  She  has  made 
herself  absolutely  indispensable  to  him." 

"  Absolutely." 

Glee  spoke  dryly  and  without  interest. 

Luncheon  was  served. 

Tall,  angular,  his  gray  suit  hanging  loosely 
on  his  shrunken  limbs,  his  hollow  cheeks  half 
hidden  by  the  big  green  shade  which  wholly 
concealed  his  eyes,  Holt  entered  the  room. 

Mrs.  Cushier  hurried  forward  to  greet  him 
and  conduct  him  to  his  place.  Glee,  with 
her  cold,  trembling  hands  clasped  tight,  her 
eyelids  fluttering,  moved  mechanically  for- 
ward. 

"My   daughter,  Miss    Cushier,    Mr.    Holt. 


66  HOLT   OF  HEATHFIELD 

Strange,  is  it  not,  that  you  should  never  have 
even  seen  each  other  until  now  ?  " 

"  A  little  strange  perhaps,"  was  Holt's  reply, 
a  tinge  of  coldness  in  his  tone.  The  fact  that 
to  the  daughter  of  his  host  his  long  sojourn 
in  the  house  had  been  unwelcome  had  not 
escaped  him. 

Glee  extended  her  hand.  She  did  not  speak 
at  all.  It  was  true  in  a  sense  that  she  never 
had  seen  the  man  himself  until  now.  His 
height,  his  careless  distinction  and  half-awk- 
ward but  wholly  unconscious  dignity,  his  for- 
mal courtesy,  the  manifest  traces  of  his  much 
suffering  came  upon  her  as  a  strange  and  sud- 
den revelation.  Through  his  physical  weak- 
ness, the  rugged  homeliness,  even  through  the 
slight  stiffness  of  his  manner,  she  felt  the  man- 
hood of  the  man  in  a  degree  inexplicable  and 
even  oppressive.  Once  before  in  that  fleeting 
glimpse  of  his  face  at  the  window  she  had 
discerned  somewhat  of  his  spirit. 

Meanwhile  Murray  Holt  was  wondering 
where  lay  the  charm  for  which  he  had  so 
often  heard  Miss  Cushier  was  distinguished. 


CHECK  67 

Throughout  luncheon  she  hardly  spoke,  and, 
luncheon  over,  excused  herself  at  once  as  she 
had  engaged  to  ride  with  Laurence  Compton, 
and  the  horses  would  be  brought  around 
presently. 

Half  an  hour  later  Holt  was  reclining  in  a 
big  leather  chair  in  the  Cushiers'  darkened 
library,  listening  to  Cecil  Compton's  well- 
modulated  voice  as  she  sat  sweet  and  sympa- 
thetic in  her  exquisite  lilac  lawn  frills,  and 
read  aloud  from  Henry  George's  "Progress 
and  Poverty,"  which  she  privately  considered 
arrant  nonsense.  Through  the  green  Venetian 
blinds  he  idly  watched  the  saddle-horses  as 
they  were  held  by  Compton's  groom  on  the 
gravel  walk  before  the  side  entrance  ;  Compton 
stood  beside  them.  He  heard  Glee's  light  step 
in  the  hall,  and  the  sound  of  an  opening  door. 
Then  she  appeared  outside.  She  was  no  longer 
wan,  cold,  and  unresponsive  as  he  had  seen 
her  at  luncheon.  The  little  pucker  had  left  its 
place  between  her  brows,  and  her  eyes  were  full 
of  light  and  merriment.  He  saw  her  white 
teeth  as  she  laughed  saucily  in  answer  to  some 


68  HOLT   OF   HEATHFIELD 

challenge  of  Compton's ;  he  noticed  what  he 
had  not  taken  in  at  luncheon,  the  spirited 
grace  of  her  figure,  the  charming  contour  of 
her  curly  head.  Why  did  this  last  percep- 
tion give  him  a  teasing  sense  of  intimate 
previous  knowledge?  It  was  doubtless  one 
of  those  baffling,  sub-conscious  tangled  threads 
which  lead  nowhere. 

He  watched  the  mounting,  oblivious  for  the 
moment  to  the  claims  and  merits  of  single 
tax,  and  as  he  saw  the  girl  erect,  dainty  and 
gleeful,  sitting  her  horse  with  firm  and  gallant 
grace,  responding  in  roguish  repartee  to  her 
companion,  he  said  to  himself :  "  How  com- 
pletely it  transforms  that  girl  to  be  in  her 
lover's  presence  !  She  is  another  being." 

Cecil  Compton,  detecting  his  diverted  atten- 
tion, dropped  her  book  and  rose  to  peep 
through  the  long  bars  of  the  blind. 

"  Larry  and  Glee  ?  "  she  questioned  softly. 
«  Oh,  yes.  Don't  they  look  happy  ?  That  is 
one  of  those  life-long  attachments,  Mr.  Holt. 
They  have  grown  up  together  and  for  each 
other,  you  know." 


CHECK  69 

Holt  nodded  with  courteous  but  colorless 
acquiescence.      Plainly    the    affairs    of    Miss 
Cushier  and  Mr.  Compton  did  not  deeply  in- 
terest  him.     Cecil    took   her  book  and  read 
on. 

Two  days  brought  marked  increase  of 
strength  to  Holt,  and  such  betterment  to  his 
eyes  that  he  was  able  to  go  out  on  the 
veranda  when  the  sun  was  not  too  bright, 
and  to  lay  aside  the  awkward  green  shade. 

Meanwhile,  calls  and  tributes  increased  at 
a  positively  alarming  rate.  The  nurse  hav- 
ing departed,  and  the  secret  of  his  disposal 
of  his  floral  offerings  to  "the  submerged 
tenth  "  through  her  being  scrupulously  kept 
by  Holt,  and  at  least  politely  ignored  in  the 
Cushier  family,  an  embarrassing  congestion 
had  ensued. 

"  Tuberoses  have  now  set  in !  "  remarked 
Glee,  with  a  plaintive  sigh  as  she  slipped  a 
large,  just-delivered  cluster  of  odorous  stalks 
into  a  tall  glass  on  the  hall  table,  "  and  con- 
fectionery. And  there  is  no  outlet.  We-are- 
having-a-sweet-time ! "  the  last  sentence  in  a 


70  HOLT  OF   HEATHFIELD 

droll  staccato,  after  the  fashion  of  a  college 
refrain  she  had  brought  back  with  her. 

It  was  afternoon. 

Mr.  Holt  was  closeted  with  her  father  in 
his  private  study.  Her  mother  was  just  de- 
scending the  stairs,  dressed  to  pay  visits. 

"  Never  mind,  my  dear,"  she  said  pensively 
as  she  reached  the  floor,  "you  will  not  be 
troubled  much  longer.  You  know  Mr.  Holt 
is  going  to-morrow." 

"  Yes,  mamma,"  Gladys  cheerfully  assented. 

Just  then  Doctor  Cushier  opened  his  door 
and  came  down  the  hall,  addressing  them 
both  with  some  casual  affectionate  comment. 
"Where  is  Mr.  Holt?"  asked  his  wife. 

"  He  has  gone  out  on  the  veranda,  I  think." 

"Are  his  eyes  doing  all  right,  Doctor?" 
and  his  wife  stopped  on  the  doorstep.  "  You 
have  been  giving  them  a  last  looking  over?" 

"  Possibly  not  a  last,"  said  the  doctor,  mus- 
ingly. "  I  am  not  quite  satisfied  with  the 
look  of  things  to-day." 

"Why,  papa?"  asked  Gladys,  quickly. 

"  It  seems,"  said  the  doctor,  slowly,  "  that 


CHECK  71 

some  years  ago  Holt  had  serious  trouble  with 
the  right  eye  which  has  been  stirred  up  again 
by  this  inflammation,  and  there  possibly  may 
be  left  a  very  slight  scar  on  the  cornea." 

"  What  does  that  mean  ? "  asked  the  girl. 

"Well,"  returned  her  father,  deliberately, 
"  it  may  mean,  if  it  cannot  be  removed,  that 
he  will  ultimately  lose  the  sight  of  one 
eye." 

"  Oh,  Doctor ! "  cried  Mrs.  Cushier,  in  great 
concern.  « I  never  dreamed  of  such  an  out- 
come as  that,  did  you  ?  " 

"I  never  dream." 

« Does  Mr.  Holt  know  it  ? "  asked  Glee, 
quickly. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  was  the  almost  impatient  re- 
ply. "  You  don't  have  to  blink  things  with 
a  man  like  Holt." 

Then  after  a  slight  pause,  with  a  touch 
of  tenderness  and  a  suppressed  sigh  :  — 

"  He  is  a  mcwi,  Gladys."  Then  moving  to 
his  wife's  side  he  said :  "  May  I  have  a  seat 
in  your  trap,  Laura  ?  I  am  going  to  try  to 
reach  Earle  by  wire  to-night.  Do  you  know 


72  HOLT   OF  HEATHFIELD 

whether  they  are  up  in  the  Catskills  or  still 
in  town  ?  " 

"In  the  Catskills,  I  think.  I  had  a  note 
from  Marie  last  week  dated  there." 

With  this  the  doctor  and  his  wife  left 
the  house  together.  Mrs.  Cushier's  pleasant 
face  bore  a  disturbed  expression,  but  Gladys, 
left  standing  alone  midway  of  the  hall,  looked 
as  if  she  were  stricken  to  the  heart. 


CHAPTER   VII 

CONFESSOR    AND    PENITENT 

ON  the  railing  of  the  veranda,  at  the  rear 
of  the  house,  which  was  thickly  screened 
with  wistaria  and  woodbine,  Murray  Holt 
sat  in  a  careless  attitude  engaged  in  the  pro- 
saic occupation  of  whittling  a  piece  of  soft 
pine  wood. 

Seeing  Gladys  Cushier  coming  toward  him 
around  the  corner  of  the  house  he  hastily 
stood  and  looked  around  at  the  litter  he 
had  made  upon  the  floor  with  a  half-apolo- 
getic smile. 

"  It  is  a  terrible  mess,  isn't  it  ? "  he  said 
ruefully,  "but  if  you'll  tell  me  where  to 
find  a  broom,  Miss  Cushier,  I'll  clear  it  off 
all  right.  I  can  sweep  splendidly." 

"  Oh,  for  pity's  sake,  Mr.  Holt,"  cried  the 
girl  in  the  sharp  stress  of  her  agitation,  "  don't 
talk  to  me  about  brooms  and  shavings ! " 

73 


74  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

"  Very  well,"  was  the  quiet  reply,  no  sur- 
prise apparent  at  her  evident  excitement ;  "  if 
you  prefer,  we  will  talk  about  the  housing 
of  the  poor,  always  an  interesting  subject, 
or  about  the  tariff  reform  — 

"  (  The  time  has  come,'  the  walrus  said, 

'  To  talk  of  many  things ; 
Of  shoes,  and  ships,  and  sealing  wax, 
Of  cabbages  and  kings,' " 

he  added,  repeating  the  quotation  with  an 
oddly  whimsical  smile,  and  slipping  back 
into  his  place  on  the  railing. 

"  Yes,  the  time  has  come,"  murmured  poor 
Glee  in  a  half-smothered  voice,  « to  talk  of 
many  things  —  things  which  should  have  been 
talked  of  long  ago." 

Struck  by  the  sudden,  wholly  unusual 
thickness  in  her  voice,  which  seemed  to 
bring  with  it  a  pungent  smell  of  aromatic 
spirits  of  ammonia,  and  a  small  hand  pressed 
upon  his  eyes,  Holt  looked  steadily  and  won- 
deringly  at  the  girl. 

"  You  have  a  lively  habit  of  rapid  trans- 
formation," he  was  thinking  within  himself. 


CONFESSOR  AND   PENITENT  75 

For  the  Miss  Cushier  who  stood  before  him 
was  neither  the  coldly  constrained  daughter 
of  the  house  with  whom  he  had  established 
simply  a,  civil  acquaintance  during  the  past 
two  days,  nor  the  merry,  merry  maiden  of 
whom  he  had  had  occasional  glimpses  as  she 
came  and  went  with  Compton  and  others, 
her  familiar  friends. 

The  girl  who  stood  confronting  him  with 
dark,  dilated  eyes  had  a  face  all  white  save 
for  a  burning  spot  on  each  cheek,  her  scarlet 
lips  were  parted  and  trembling,  and  her  small 
hands  were  clasped  and  pressed  hard  against 
the  buckle  of  her  belt.  Plainly,  some  ex- 
traordinary event  had  drawn  her  wholly  out 
of  herself. 

".I  have  come  to  make  a  confession,"  she 
said  now,  distinctly,  but  with  a  small,  dry 
sob  under  her  breath. 

"  Oh,  don't,  I  beg  ! "  remarked  Holt,  smil- 
ing good-naturedly.  The  confessing  type  of 
young  womanhood  in  its  relation  to  its  spirit- 
ual adviser  was  one  with  which  he  was  al- 
ready but  too  familiar,  to  his  sorrow.  "  Take 


76  HOLT   OF  HEATHFIELD 

any  shape  but  that,  Miss  Cushier,  since  so 
many  seem  to  be  at  your  disposal !  I  don't 
hear  confessions." 

Glee  looked  into  his  wounded  eyes  with 
searching  directness.  They  were  clear  and 
unclouded  to  her  sight.  Could  she  find  in 
them  any  knowledge  of  the  full  variety  and 
range  of  her  identity  ?  It  was  impossible 
to  decide.  Furthermore,  their  expression 
was  simply  one  of  good-humored  amusement 
without  the  smallest  suggestion  of  any  tragic 
or  emotional  experience  such  as  she  had 
fancied  him  to  be  suffering  at  this  hour. 

What  a  twist  Fate  had  given  things !  Here 
was  she,  the  critical  and  cavilling  Glee  Cushier, 
on  her  knees  in  spirit  before  this  fancied 
pampered,  and  posing  egoist,  as  a  tearful, 
over-excited,  remorseful  suppliant  before  a 
coldly  indifferent  judge!  Verily  she  would 
have  liked  at  the  moment  to  have  had  it  out 
with  Fate  for  serving  her  such  a  trick  ! 

And  the  most  curious  part  of  the  situation 
to  Glee  was  that  she  seemed  never  to  have 
encountered  a  man  so  little  pampered,  so  little 


CONFESSOR  AND   PENITENT  77 

posing,  so  little  an  egoist !  As  he  sat  there 
on  the  railing,  sandy-haired  and  freckled, 
with  his  long  legs  and  his  whittling  he  looked 
singularly  like  an  overgrown,  rather  jolly,  and 
altogether  unsubjective  schoolboy !  And  at 
this  juncture,  when  he  ought,  according  to 
her  theory  of  him,  to  have  been  wholly  given 
over  to  melancholy  and  heroics ! 

All  the  more  for  this  her  fierce  penitence 
drove  her  to  persist  in  her  determination. 

"  You  will  have  to  hear  mine ! "  she  cried, 
her  voice  trembling.  "  It  is  shameful  of  me 
not  to  have  made  it  before.  I  thought  I 
couldn't." 

"  If  you  are  bent  on  this  unhappy  exercise, 
Miss  Cushier,"  said  Holt,  with  ironical  gravity, 
rising  and  crossing  the  veranda,  "at  least 
allow  me  to  give  you  a  chair,"  and  he  drew 
a  light  bamboo  rocker  to  her  side. 

Apparently  failing  to  notice  either  his  re- 
mark or  action  in  her  strong  preoccupation, 
the  girl  moved  to  one  of  the  stout  pillars  up- 
holding the  veranda  roof,  and  braced  herself 
with  her  head  tipped  backward  against  it,  her 


78  HOLT   OF  HEATHFIELD 

chin  lifted,  her  eyes  gleaming  with  a  gloomy 
brightness. 

Holt  stood  a  few  paces  from  her  now,  lean- 
ing easily  against  the  railing,  regarding  her 
with  a  half  smile.  She  was  exceedingly 
pretty  in  her  high-tragedy  mood.  The 
rounded  outline  of  her  head  stood  out  with 
peculiar  distinctness  from  the  background 
furnished  by  the  painted  pillar,  and  as  he 
gazed  fixedly  at  this  outline  a  sudden,  clear 
perception  flashed  across  him.  Again  he 
seemed  to  inhale  those  aromatic  fumes ! 

"  Mr.  Holt,"  began  Glee,  choking  down 
her  tears,  "you  never  can  imagine  what  I 
suffer." 

"  Dear,  dear ! "  murmured  Holt,  compas- 
sionately, but  still  inclined  to  smile.  "  Is  it 
as  bad  as  that  ?  " 

"  As  that  ?  I  should  think  so,"  murmured 
Glee.  "Mr.  Holt,  I  —  " 

"  Pardon  me  just  a  moment,  Miss  Cushier," 
interrupted  her  confessor,  grown  suddenly 
grave,  "  I  am  a  bit  of  a  clairvoyant.  I  think 
possibly  if  you  will  allow  me  to  take  your 


THE    GIRL    MOVED    TO    ONE    OF    THE    STOUT   PILLARS   UPHOLDING 
THE  VERANDA   ROOF." 


CONFESSOR   AND   PENITENT  79 

wrist  in  my  hand  a  moment  I  can  save  you 
this  —  as  I  said  before  —  painful  exercise." 

Glee  stared  a  little  and  involuntarily  held 
up  one  hand. 

Holt  deliberately  clasped  the  small,  round 
wrist  in  his  muscular  hand  with  a  vise-like 
grip. 

"  It  is  the  same,"  he  said  after  a  half  min- 
ute, coolly,  as  if  he  had  been  making  an  exact 
and  careful  measurement,  at  the  same  time 
releasing  her  hand.  "  One  could  hardly  mis- 
take. Then,  Miss  Cushier,  you  are  —  "  Here 
he  hesitated  for  a  word,  and  Glee,  with  low 
urgency  of  self-abasement,  murmured :  — 

"  The  fiend  who  put  your  eyes  out,  Mr. 
Holt ! "  and  she  covered  her  face  with  both 
hands. 

"  This  is  rare ! "  cried  Holt,  upon  whom  the 
situation  of  a  week  ago  was  returning  in  be- 
wildering force  ;  "  certainly  this  is  rare  !  Do 
you  remember  my  prayer  for  deliverance, 
then  ?  my  abusing  some  innocent  person 
roundly,  calling  names,  and  the  rest  of  it  ? 
Bless  me,  Miss  Cushier,  if  that  is  all  your  con- 


80  HOLT   OF   HEATHFIELD 

fession,  I  think  I  am  the  guiltier  of  the  two. 
A  sorry  scene  I  made  of  it !  Pray  let  me  be 
the  one  to  apologize.  I  not  only  called  names, 
but  took  so  much  of  your  time,  not  to  say  so 
much  of  your  ammonia  ! " 

"  But  if  you  have  to  have  that  eye  operated 
upon ! "  faltered  Glee,  by  no  means  inclined 
to  join  in  his  light-minded  view  of  the 
case. 

"  They  give  you  cocaine,  you  know,"  he 
said  nonchalantly.  "  It  is  a  very  small  affair. 
Your  father  has  been  good  enough  to  propose 
sending  to  New  York  for  Doctor  Earle  to 
come  out  and  look  me  over.  Really,  as  far 
as  I  am  concerned,  I  do  not  see  the  occasion 
for  a  specialist.  But  your  father  speaks  of 
Doctor  Earle  as  so  connected  with  your  family 
that  his  coming  would  be  rather  a  pleasure 
than  otherwise." 

"Yes,"  said  Glee,  hurriedly,  "his  wife  is 
father's  second  cousin.  He  is  perfectly  fine. 
But  what  —  what  if  —  oh,  dear  me,  Mr.  Holt 
—  what  if  you  should  lose  the  sight  of  that 
eye  ?  " 


CONFESSOR  AND  PENITENT  81 

"And  what  —  and  what  —  Miss  Cashier,  if 
I  should  not  ? "  returned  Holt,  "  as  is  alto- 
gether probable  ?  I  have  not  the  remotest 
expectation,  believe  me,  of  losing  it ;  but  if  I 
do,  fortunately  I  have  another  one,  and  one 
will  see  me  through  all  right.  Now  can  you 
rest  satisfied  ?  Is  that  the  sum  total  of  this 
terrible  confession  ? "  and  he  drew  a  long 
breath  as  of  relief,  which  closely  resembled  a 
disguised  whistle. 

"  No,  it  is  not  the  whole,"  said  Glee,  shak- 
ing her  head  slowly,  sensibly  relieved  by  the 
sturdy,  matter-of-fact  repose  of  her  victim. 

"  All  right.  Let's  have  the  rest,"  and 
Holt  planted  his  feet  firmly  before  him  and 
crossed  his  arms  upon  his  broad  chest,  bend- 
ing his  head  slightly  forward.  His  eyes 
were  fixed  upon  the  wall  opposite,  as  if  in 
resolute,  enforced  attention. 

"  I  think  it  is  my  duty  to  own  to  you 
that  I  have  had  some  little  prejudices  which 
I  see  now  are  absurd." 

Holt  nodded  gravely. 

"I  see." 

G 


82  HOLT   OF   HEATHFIELD 

"  We  college  girls  are  apt,  I  think,  to  be 
pretty  positive  in  our  conclusions." 

"That  is  possible." 

"  I  find,  Mr.  Holt,  that  in  reality  you  do 
not  choose  to  be  made  a  hero  of,  to  have 
people  deluge  you  with  roses,  you  know, 
and  all  that." 

"  It  has  occurred  to  you,  then,  that  all 
this  might  not  be  precisely  what  I  am  in 
the  ministry  for,  and  that  I  might,  in  time, 
become  satiated  with  certain  attentions  ? " 
Somewhat  grimly  came  the  question. 

"  Yes,  and  that  you  even,  in  a  quiet  way, 
drive  a  rattling  down-town  trade  in  the 
tributes  of  your  adorers.  In  short,  Mr. 
Holt,  I  could  not  help  finding  out,  you  see, 
what  you  do  with  the  flowers  the  girls 
send  you ! " 

In  one  of  her  swift  reactions  to  the  droll 
side  of  the  situation,  Glee  broke  into  a 
light  ripple  of  laughter. 

"Decidedly,"  said  Holt,  turning  then  for 
the  first  time  and  regarding  her  with  judi- 
cial calmness,  —  «  decidedly  you  (ire  —  the 


CONFESSOR   AND   PENITENT  83 

'  fiend ' !  The  identification  is  now  com- 
plete. Proceed,  please,  with  the  confession, 
Miss  Cushier,  or  we  shall  never  get  to  the 
absolution." 

Glee  stood  irresolute,  with  eyes  downcast. 

"I  do  not  know  if  I  dare." 

"  I  fancy  you  dare  almost  anything. 
Please  go  on." 

"  Mr.  Holt,  I  really  believe  that  I  am  a 
narrow,  priggish  person.  Perhaps  we  are  so 
at  college  when  we  least  appreciate  it.  We 
go  in  there,  you  know,  for  very  strenuous 
ideals.  Well,  I  someway  got  the  notion 
that  the  church  here  exists  chiefly  for  its 
own  sake,  quite  apart  from  the  real  needs 
and  problems  of  the  people,  —  that  it  has, 
perhaps,  a  rather  artificial  life." 

"  I  fear  you  were  not  entirely  wrong." 

"  Also  that  the  church  likes  to  have  a 
rather  effective  person  as  pastor,  whom  the 
girls  and  women  spend  their  time  in  ador- 
ing, and  that  the  interest  of  the  situation 
is  enhanced  by  the  fact  that  the  pastor  is 
supposed  to  have  committed  himself  to  a 


84  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

celibate  life,  or  something  of  the  kind,  all 
of  which  I  used  to  think,  in  my  unchas- 
tened  youth,  you  know,  was  a  little  — " 

"  Theatrical,"  put  in  Holt,  a  slight  flush 
tinging  his  cheeks;  "odiously  priggish  that, 
anyway." 

"  I  admit  that  the  whole  situation  antag- 
onized me,"  said  Glee,  simply. 

"  It  must  have  done  so."  Holt  spoke  with 
grave  sarcasm.  Glee's  cheeks  were  burning 
with  the  sense  of  her  own  audacity. 

"I  fear  you  have  some  ground  for  your 
judgment  of  the  church,  not  here  alone,  but 
the  modern  church  everywhere,"  Holt  went 
on  more  seriously,  looking  directly  in  Glee's 
face  now.  The  two  established  facts  of 
her  aloofness  from  himself,  and  her  relation 
to  Compton,  made  it  possible  for  him  to 
speak  to  this  girl  more  freely  than  he  could 
have  spoken  to  any  other. 

"There  is  a  great  deal  of  marking  time 
done  in  these  days,  and  much  of  pure  selfish- 
ness in  the  struggle  for  existence  of  the 
church.  What  can  stop  it  if  the  ministry, 


CONFESSOR  AND   PENITENT  85 

too,  seeks  its  own  ?  Nevertheless,  though  it 
may  seem  poor  and  vain,  I  assure  you  it 
stands  for  something  in  a  man's  life  when 
he  honestly  concludes  that  one  side  of  life, 
which  men  most  crave,  ought  to  be  foregone 
for  him." 

"  But  surely  you  have  not  the  ascetic  celi- 
bate notion  ?  "  and  Glee  looked  at  him  with 
a  faint  return  of  her  old  scorning  rising  in 
her  eyes.  Some  things  were  so  absolutely 
clear  at  the  end  of  Senior  year ! 

"  No,"  said  Holt,  his  mouth  twitching  with 
a  smile  at  her  returning  confidence,  "not 
that,  either." 

"  I  think,"  he  said  after  a  thoughtful  pause, 
in  which  Glee  felt  a  large  and  growing  awe 
of  the  man,  for  some  indefinable  reason, 
"  that  you  have  not  my  point  of  view.  Why 
should  you  have  ?  It  is  really  of  no  conse- 
quence, probably  you  do  not  care  at  all, 
and  yet,  since  we  are  on  the  subject,  let  me 
say  this  —  I  hope  I  have  entered  the  Chris- 
tian ministry  in  dead  earnest,  and  not  to 
keep  alive  a  set  of  old  traditions.  I  am 


86  HOLT   OF   HEATHFIELD 

pledged  to  work  for  the  real  needs  of  the 
people  around  me,  not  for  the  artificial  ones. 
I  know  there  is  mighty  little  to  show  this, 
but  I  have  not  been  here  long,  and  I  hope 
there  is  good  hard  work  before  me.  Certain 
experiences,  in  fact,  which  have  come  to  me 
in  Heathfield,  indicate,  not  'bonds  and  im- 
prisonment,' nothing  heroic  or  striking,  you 
know,  but  a  mighty  hard,  exacting,  and  even 
disappointing  life.  A  life  apart  from  gaye- 
ties  and  garlands,  although  I  admit  the  gar- 
lands have  been  a  good  deal  in  evidence 
lately.  But  they  are  none  of  my  choosing," 
he  added  impatiently.  "  The  ministry  to-day, 
as  I  see  it,  is  not  a  pious  way  for  a  man 
to  get  his  living,  nor  a  congenial  occupation 
for  a  man  of  scholarly  tastes,  but  something 
far  more  difficult.  It  must  be  more,  or  pres- 
ently it  will  be  even  less,  —  we  shall  have 
a  subservient  clergy,  and  in  that  case,  God 
pity  us !  It  must  be  the  way  of  the  Cross. 
It  must  be  —  at  least  as  I  see  it  for  myself 
—  the  work  of  men  who  are  willing  to  forego 
many  of  the  joys  and  gains  of  life,  and  place 


CONFESSOR  AND   PENITENT  87 

themselves  shoulder  to  shoulder  with  the 
poverty  and  hard  labor  and  sin  and  despera- 
tion of  their  fellows,  and  bear  their  burden 
with  them.  This  is  not  precisely  an  attrac- 
tive programme.  A  man  with  a  wife,  Miss 
Cushier,  has  no  right  to  plan  thus ;  therefore, 
a  man  who  plans  thus  has  no  right  to  have 
a  wife.  That  is  all." 

"  Now  I  see,"  said  Glee. 

«Am  I  right?" 

"  I  think  you  are  from  your  point  of  view." 

Holt  took  out  his  watch  and  glanced  in 
the  direction  of  the  Compton  villa. 

"  It  is  later  than  I  thought,"  he  said  in 
a  matter-of-fact  tone.  "  If  you  will  excuse 
me,  Miss  Cushier,  I  ought  to  run  over  now 
and  say  good-by  to  Miss  Compton  and  her 
mother.  I  shall  be  gone,  you  see,  after 
to-night,  for  a  matter  of  two  or  three  weeks." 

"  You  will  take  your  vacation,  then  — 
after  —  " 

"  After  my  eyes  have  been  taken  care  of. 
Yes."  With  a  ceremonious  salutation,  which 
seemed  instantly  to  render  the  freedom  of 


88  HOLT   OF  HEATHFIELD 

their  long  conversation  a  thing  incredible 
and  remote,  Holt  then  excused  himself  and 
strode  across  the  lawn  to  the  little  gate  in 
the  hedge. 

Cecil  Compton  was  walking  slowly  down 
her  own  garden  path  on  the  other  side. 

An  hour  later,  upon  her  return  home,  Mrs. 
Cushier  was  met  in  the  hall  by  Glee,  who 
held  an  open  telegram  in  her  hand. 

"Doctor  Earle  will  be  here  at  ten  to-mor- 
row morning,"  the  girl  announced. 

"  How  fine  that  he  could   come  at  once." 

"And,  mamma,  bear  up  while  I  tell  you 
the  rest !  —  the  Over-soul  is  coming  with 
him  —  'for  a  little  visit.'" 


CHAPTER   VIII 

THE    OVER-SOUL 

THE  closing  chords  of  Beethoven's  "  Sonata 
Pathetique,"  played  with  singular  power,  came 
through  the  open  windows  of  the  Cushiers' 
drawing-room. 

Gladys  and  Cecilia  Compton,  their  tennis 
rackets  in  hand,  their  faces  flushed  with  exer- 
cise in  the  hot  July  sun,  stopped  on  the  steps 
to  listen. 

"  Who  is  that  playing  ?  "  asked  Cecil. 

"  Why,  the  Over-soul,  to  be  sure,"  was 
Glee's  laconic  reply. 

"  Glee  !  What  makes  you  call  your  cousin 
that  ridiculous  name  ?  "  Cecil  was  extremely 
matter-of-fact. 

"  You  know  Mrs.  Earle  is  not  my  cousin, 
Cecil,"  replied  Glee,  coolly.  "  She  is  father's 
second  cousin,  and  I  call  her  the  Over-soul 

89 


90  HOLT   OF  HEATHFIELD 

because  she  is  so  deadly  sentimental.  She 
wearies  me  more  than  any  one  I  know." 

"  She  plays  the  piano  well,  all  the  same," 
murmured  Cecil,  discontentedly.  She  had  felt 
herself  displaced  since  the  arrival  of  Mrs.  Earle 
upon  the  scene. 

"  She  plays  everything  well,"  returned  Glee. 
"  I  never  saw  her  in  better  form.  This  new 
pose  of  the  motherly  matron  which  she  is  try- 
ing on  Mr.  Holt  —  " 

A  curtain  was  drawn  back  just  then  from  a 
window  and  a  voice  of  vibrating  gentleness 
called :  — 

"  Gladys,  dearie." 

Glee,  with  the  sense  of  being  relegated  to  the 
ranks  of  the  young,  the  superfluous,  the  pat- 
ronized, approached  the  window  and  the  tall, 
beautiful,  dark  woman  who  stood  there. 

Mrs.  Earle  smiled  upon  her  with  unfathom- 
able brown  eyes.  She  wore  the  simplest  of 
black  gowns,  but  the  transparent  meshes  of  it 
possessed  a  certain  classic  distinction,  lent  by 
her  superb  figure.  Gladys,  in  her  short,  white 
tennis  suit,  felt  crude  and  commonplace. 


THE   OVER-SOUL  91 

"  Don't  you  think  that  it  would  be  well  for 
Mr.  Holt  to  have  a  glass  of  milk  ?  I  would 
get  it  in  a  minute  if  I  could.  It  is  eleven 
o'clock,  you  see — " 

"  Certainly,  Cousin  Marie,"  was  Glee's  short 
reply.  "  Excuse  me,  Cecil,"  she  said  as  she 
entered  the  house  and  disappeared  in  the 
dining  room. 

Mrs.  Earle  turned  and  stood  a  moment,  her 
figure  silhouetted  against  the  window.  The 
long  parlor  was  shaded  almost  to  darkness. 
In  an  easy-chair,  half  the  room's  length  re- 
moved, sat  Murray  Holt,  his  head  resting  on 
his  hand  in  the  languor  of  the  mood  which 
her  music  had  laid  upon  him. 

"You  should  not  have  bothered,"  he  mur- 
mured vaguely.  "  I  don't  care  for  milk." 

Mrs.  Earle  moved  to  where  he  sat  and  drew 
an  Indian  seat  nearer.  Then  with  a  composed 
movement  as  of  long  practice  she  took  his 
wrist  in  her  cool,  firm  fingers,  and  so  sat  for  a 
moment,  her  head  a  little  averted,  her  eyes  full 
of  their  quiet  dreaming. 

"  You  are  doing  beautifully,"  she  said  after 


92  HOLT   OF  HEATHFIELD 

a  little  space.  "  You  see  I  know  what  to  ex- 
pect after  these  little  experiences." 

"  You  seem  to,  indeed." 

"  The  doctor  likes  to  leave  me  with  his  es- 
pecial patients  when  he  can,"  she  proceeded, 
"  those  who  belong  to  the  inner  circle,  you 
know.  It  is  perhaps  a  fancy  of  his  that  I  un- 
derstand how  to  keep  them  from  excitement 
and  all  that.  A  doctor's  wife,  Mr.  Holt, 
ought  to  be  something  of  a  nurse,  a  little  of  a 
doctor  —  " 

"And  a  good  deal  of  a  goddess,"  Murray 
Holt  added  to  himself. 

Then  Glee  came  in,  tray  in  hand. 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  little  girl,"  said  her  cousin, 
and  smiled  upon  her  a  smile  which  Murray 
Holt  felt  to  be  divine,  and  which  Glee  resented 
hotly  as  patronizing,  and  so  resenting,  hastened 
from  the  room  in  rather  ungracious  silence. 

Then  Mrs.  Earle,  with  her  hands  folded  in 
her  lap  and  her  eyes  full  of  soft  compulsion, 
kept  watch  beside  him  until  the  milk  was 
taken  to  the  last  drop,  and  sweetened  the 
unwelcome  draught  with  her  gentle  speech. 


THE  OVER-SOUL  93 

It  was  all  very  new  and  very  wonderful  to 
Murray  Holt.  Here  at  last  was  a  woman  in 
whose  society  he  could  linger  with  no  slightest 
misgiving  ;  a  woman  who  quietly  announced 
herself  as  far  older  than  he,  who  was  the  wife 
of  a  man  whom  he  profoundly  respected, 
and  who  assumed  toward  him  this  curiously 
captivating  matronly  authority,  so  putting  him 
wholly  at  rest  with  himself  and  with  her. 
Added  to  this,  for  all  her  wifely  dignity  and  re- 
pose, Mrs.  Earle  was  still  very  good  to  look  upon, 
and  she  had  the  secret  which  only  now  and 
then  a  woman  has  learned,  and  never  a  very 
young  one,  of  unconsciously  flattering  a  man 
and  drawing  from  him,  as  she  drew  from  the 
piano,  what  notes  soever  she  would. 

Through  the  long  morning  hours  they  sat 
and  talked.  Holt  told  his  new  friend  of  his 
cherished  purposes,  his  more  personal  ideals. 
She  drew  from  him  in  general  outline  his 
stern  and  rugged  scheme  of  life  for  himself. 
She  professed  the  deepest  sympathy  for  his 
theories  and  aims  ;  in  fact  they  were  strangely 
like  her  own  ;  but  she,  alas,  had  been  thwarted 


94  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

all  her  life  by  circumstance.  She  had  never, 
indeed,  lived  her  own  life ;  perhaps  now 
never  could,  and  her  eyes  grew  wistful. 

Then,  with  swift  change,  Mrs.  Earle  gave 
him  gentle,  almost  timid  advice  to  marry  as 
soon  as  possible.  To  be  sure,  it  might  be 
hard  for  him  to  find  a  kindred  soul. 

There  were,  however,  women  —  only  now 
and  then  one  perhaps  —  cast  in  his  own 
mould ;  women  who  could  rise  to  his  own 
point  of  view,  but,  and  she  sighed,  they  were 
not  the  women  a  man  was  apt  to  encoun- 
ter in  the  circle  of  a  conventional  parish. 
Then  there  was  a  long  silence.  Whether 
it  was  filled  up  on  Holt's  part  precisely  ac- 
cording to  Mrs.  Earle's  programme  she  could 
not  be  sure,  but  the  reverence  in  his  eyes 
when  he  raised  them  to  her  face  gave  her 
an  acutely  pleasing  sensation.  It  had  been 
long  since  she  had  encountered  a  more  in- 
teresting man  than  Murray  Holt,  a  more 
picturesque  personality.  She  was  annoyed 
when  her  cousin,  Mrs.  Cushier,  presently 
hurried  in  with  manifold  apologies  for  her 


THE   OVER-SOUL  95 

prolonged  absence  —  prolonged  by  reason  of 
the  crisis  which  currant  jelly  never  failed  to 
induce. 

Doctor  Earle  had  come  to  the  Cushiers, 
bringing  their  cousin,  his  wife,  with  him, 
the  week  before.  He  had  found  no  occa- 
sion for  a  serious  operation  upon  Murray 
Holt's  eyes,  but  had  administered  a  species 
of  treatment  somewhat  painful  in  itself  which 
he  wished  Doctor  Cushier  to  repeat  twice 
within  the  week  following.  After  this  course 
of  treatment  he  anticipated  rapid  and  com- 
plete recovery,  but  while  it  lasted  he  pre- 
ferred his  patient  to  remain  under  Doctor 
Cushier's  immediate  oversight.  Doctor  Earle 
then  departed,  but  his  wife  remained  behind, 
requiring  little  urgency  to  confirm  her  in 
her  opinion  that  this  was  par  excellence 
the  time  for  a  visit  to  her  dear  Cushier 
cousins. 

With  admirable  adroitness  she  quietly  gath- 
ered the  lines  of  the  situation  into  her  own 
hands.  What,  from  her  point  of  view,  could 
be  more  opportune  for  her  cousins  than  to 


96  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

be  relieved  of  all  further  immediate  attend- 
ance upon  their  invalid  guest  ?  She  was 
fresh  and  strong,  she  told  them,  and  per- 
fectly willing  to  make  herself  useful  in  this 
way.  Mr.  Holt  seemed  such  a  nice  fellow 
—  really  a  boy,  don't  you  know  ?  —  she 
didn't  mind  in  the  least  amusing  him  as 
well  as  she  could,  and  it  was  so  fortunate 
that  he  seemed  to  like  her  music ! 

Cecil  Compton's  readings  became  things 
of  the  past.  Glee's  new  stirring  of  interest 
in  the  young  minister  was  suddenly  ex- 
tinguished. Even  Mrs.  Cushier  felt  herself 
superfluous  in  her  own  house,  so  far  as  Mr. 
Holt's  personal  requirements  were  concerned. 
This  he  innocently  supposed  to  be  an  im- 
measurable relief,  and  the  crown  of  all  his 
gratitude  to  his  new  friend  was  that  she 
was  lessening  the  burden  which  he  so  re- 
luctantly imposed  upon  his  hosts.  He  was 
very  young,  was  Murray  Holt,  and,  of  woman- 
kind, very  ignorant 


CHAPTER   IX 

CKESCENDO 

SUNDAY  again  in  Heathfield;  mid-July  now, 
and  the  rich  grass  and  ivy  and  elm  tree  foli- 
age around  the  Old  North  Church  more  luxu- 
riant even  than  mid-June  had  found  them. 

Service  is  over,  but  the  pastor,  who  has 
preached  to  his  people  for  the  first  time 
after  a  month's  enforced  absence,  is  not  suf- 
fered to  withdraw  quietly  from  the  desk  as 
he  would  gladly  have  done.  The  tide  sets 
in,  not  out,  and  around  the  pulpit  stairs  the 
people  gather  with  outstretched  hands  and 
eyes  shining  with  welcome  and  with  joy  in 
his  recovery  and  return. 

With  frank,  unconstrained  pleasure  Holt 
receives  the  congratulations  of  the  enthusias- 
tic throng,  frowning  less  than  usual  at  their 
fervent  praise  of  his  "  wonderful  sermon." 

But  presently  his  eye  catches  the  figure 
H  97 


98  HOLT   OF   HEATHFIELD 

of  Gladys  Cushier,  followed  by  that  of  Mrs. 
Earle.  They  pass  out,  almost  alone,  through 
the  church  door.  As  far  as  he  can  tell  they 
have  not  even  looked  his  way.  Why  is 
it  that  after  this  the  whole  scene  turns 
cold  and  colorless  ? 

It  was  only  the  day  before  that  Holt  had 
left  the  Cushiers'.  He  knew  that  Mrs.  Earle 
was  to  join  her  husband  in  New  York  this 
afternoon  and  return  with  him  to  her  sum- 
mer home.  He  had  made  his  adieux  to  her. 
He  had  no  right  to  expect  her  to  speak  with 
him  again,  and  as  for  Glee  —  when  had  she 
ever  taken  a  step  to  meet  him  or  bestowed 
a  thought  or  a  feeling  upon  him  save  in 
that  single  interview  on  the  veranda  when 
she  had  confessed  herself  his  tormentor,  and 
a  brief  glimpse  had  been  given  him  into  her 
wild,  eager,  loyal  girl-heart?  Since  that  day 

she  had  gone  her  way  as  if  her  passing  inter- 

f 
est  had  vanished  like  a  morning  mist. 

#         *         *         *         *         *         * 
At  the  Cushiers'  home  a  sudden  blank  and 
stillness   seemed   to   follow  the  departure  of 


CRESCENDO  99 

their  guest  that  July  Sunday.  In  the  middle 
of  the  long,  sunny  afternoon  Mrs.  Cushier 
emerged  from  the  seclusion  of  her  own  room 
in  a  muslin  peignoir,  magazine  in  hand,  her 
eyes  still  drowsy  from  her  Sunday  siesta. 
She  found  Glee  sitting  in  a  low  armchair 
in  the  upper  hall  bay-window. 

"  Somebody  just  went  downstairs,  Glee," 
said  her  mother.  "  I  thought  it  was  you." 

"  No,  mamma.     It  was  Cousin  Marie." 

"  I  almost  wondered  that  she  did  not 
speak  to  Mr.  Holt  after  church  this  morn- 
ing. Really,  he  preached  as  if  he  had  been 
inspired.  A  word  from  her,  under  the  cir- 
cumstances —  " 

"  Would  have  been  exceedingly  common- 
place, mamma.  The  Over-soul  would  not 
have  thrown  away  a  chance  for  a  thoroughly 
effective  scene  a  deux,  by  mingling  with  the 
common  herd,  can't  you  see  ? " 

"  But  Mr.  Holt  will  not  be  here  again 
before  she  leaves.  How  can  she  manage 
an  interview  ?  " 

Glee  laughed  merrily.    "Dear  little  mamma," 


100  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

she  murmured,  "  how  very  young  you  are ! 
She  is  managing  it  now  ! " 

Downstairs  in  the  remote  telephone  closet 
adjoining  Doctor  Cushier's  study  Mrs.  Earle 
was  even  then  saying  over  the  wire :  — 

"  I  am  so  sorry  to  disturb  you,  but  you 
see  I  had  a  letter  last  night  from  the  doc- 
tor, and  there  is  one  little  point  he  wanted 
me  to  see  you  about."  ..."  Could  you  ?  "  .  .  . 
"  Would  it  really  not  be  too  much  trouble  ?  " 
..."  I  leave  at  five,  you  know."  .  .  . 
"Very  well,  then.  Good-by." 

Half  an  hour  later  Murray  Holt  was  ush- 
ered into  the  Cushiers'  drawing-room,  where 
Mrs.  Earle,  statuesque  and  beautiful  in  cling- 
ing white,  was  waiting  alone  for  his  coming. 

She  conveyed  her  husband's  message  to  the 
young  man.  It  had  been  skilfully  shaped 
into  a  message,  the  trifling  suggestion  which 
she  had  elicited  by  questions  and  which  could 
as  well  have  been  intrusted  to  Doctor  Cushier. 
Under  her  skilful  touch  it  assumed  propor- 
tions which  her  husband  would  hardly  have 
recognized,  and  a  quite  indubitable  impor- 


CRESCENDO  101 

tance.  This  subject  covered,  Mrs.  Earle 
changed  from  the  careful,  motherly  friend ; 
she  became  the  sensitive,  impressionable 
woman  as  she  held  out  her  hand  half  shyly 
to  the  young  man.  He  had  risen  now  to  go, 
her  time  being  so  short. 

"  I  could  not  leave  without  one  word  after 
what  you  did  forv  me  this  morning,"  she  said 
softly. 

Moved  and  surprised  Holt  looked  into  her 
face.  Her  eyes  were  downcast. 

"  I  could  not  speak  of  it  ...  before  all 
those  people.  It  meant  too  much  to  me.  .  .  . 
If  you  could  know  how  I  needed  just  that 
message ! " 

"  Indeed,  I  am  very  glad,"  .  .  .  began  Holt 
with  a  certain  formality,  touched,  but  a  trifle 
embarrassed,  at  this  wealth  of  emotion. 

"Ah,  my  friend,  do  not  let  us  fall  back 
upon  common-places  and  conventional  phrases ! 
Let  us  encounter  each  other  as  soul  meeting 
soul.  ...  I  am,  little  as  you  perhaps  have 
guessed  it,  hungry,  starving  for  this  spiritual 
food  which  you  have  given  me." 


102  HOLT  OF   HEATHFIELD 

There  was  a  little  silence  which  Holt  did 
not  risk  breaking.  He  was  not  confident  that 
he  could  carry  his  part  in  this  soul-to-soul 
encounter.  She  began  again,  her  voice  falter- 
ing a  little. 

"Mr.  Holt,  there  are  some  things  one  can 
hardly  speak  of.  ...  I  am  not  alone  in  my 
spiritual  need.  .  .  .  There  is  another  for 
whom  I  would  give  my  life.  .  .  .  You  will 
understand.  He  is  missing  the  best,  the 
highest,  and  I  have  to  stand  by  helpless.  Oh, 
it  is  so  hard.  .  .  .  You  have  what  we  need, 
both  of  us.  When  we  send  for  you  will  you 
come  ?  " 

The  last  words  were  spoken  with  almost 
trembling  appeal,  the  dark  eyes  fixed  full 
upon  Holt's  face.  He  had  grown  even  graver 
now  than  she. 

"I  fear  you  completely  misjudge  —  over- 
estimate my  power.  I  feel  before  you  and 
Doctor  Earle  like  a  raw,  untrained  schoolboy. 
Anything  possible  for  me  to  do  for  you,  how- 
ever, you  may  be  sure  I  would  most  gladly 
do." 


CRESCENDO  103 

«  You  will  come  .  .  .  if  I  send  ?  " 

A  world  of  significance  and  of  mysterious 
pathos  accompanied  the  question. 

"  Certainly.     You  can  count  upon  me." 

With  these  words  and  a  reverential  saluta- 
tion Murray  Holt  hastened  from  the  house. 

As  he  walked  back  to  his  work  in  his 
study  a  flicker  of  doubt  rose  within  him. 
Was  all  this  emotion  genuine  ?  Had  it  been 
in  perfect,  highest  honor  to  deplore  her  hus- 
band's spiritual  deficiencies  to  a  youngster 
like  him  ?  But  the  doubt  seemed  treason, 
and  Murray  Holt  smothered  it  with  one  grip 
of  his  muscular,  honest  displeasure. 

But  Glee  Cushier,  who,  coming  down  the 
stairs,  had  involuntarily  heard  the  final  im- 
pressive question  and  answer,  shut  her  lips 
firmly,  with  a  scornful  light  in  her  eyes,  and 
to  herself  she  said  :  — 

"  I  have  the  Reverend  Murray  Holt'.s  meas- 
ure now.  He  is,  after  all,  as  fast  for  flattery 
as  ever  I  thought  him,  only  it  must  be  admin- 
istered with  sufficient  subtlety.  And  what 
bunglers  all  these  other  women  are  beside 


104  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

Marie  Earle !  She  has  all  her  husband's 
scientific  delicacy  of  touch.  Mr.  Holt  will 
turn  troubadour  now  in  short  order,  and 
she  can  play  her  favorite  role,  —  the  Inac- 
cessible Adored,  —  to  her  heart's  content. 
The  Motherly  Matron  was  certainly  effective 
and  did  its  work,  but  it  would  soon  grow 
tiresome." 

******* 

Two  weeks  later,  being  his  first  vacation 
Sunday,  Murray  Holt  found  himself,  obedient 
to  a  brief  but  cordial  note  of  invitation  from 
Doctor  and  Mrs.  Earle,  a  visitor  in  their  spa- 
cious summer  cottage  in  the  Catskills. 

Not  a  little  to  the  young  man's  surprise  the 
good  doctor,  a  homely,  hard-worked  man, 
many  years  older  than  his  wife,  had  departed 
early  Sunday  morning  to  fill  an  engagement 
at  Albany.  Holt  was  slightly  puzzled  by  the 
fact  that  although  his  host  expressed  suitable 
regret  at  thus  missing  his  one  day's  visit,  he 
did  not  suggest  that  the  call  to  Albany  was 
unexpected.  On  the  contrary,  the  engage- 
ment appeared  to  be  of  long  standing. 


CRESCENDO  105 

Having  been  led  to  suppose  that  Mrs.  Earle 
cherished  a  desire  unspeakably  profound  for 
the  exercise  of  his  own  spiritual  influence 
upon  her  husband,  he  found  the  situation  a 
shade  perplexing.  Moreover,  no  sooner  had 
he  come  into  immediate  contact  again  with 
Doctor  Earle  than  the  picture  of  him  as  in 
a  condition  of  desperate  spiritual  poverty 
from  which  he,  Holt,  had  been  summoned  to 
rescue  him,  smote  upon  his  perceptions  as 
incredibly  absurd.  The  man  impressed  him 
as  singularly  wise,  noble,  and  possessed  of 
the  straightforward  simplicity  which  belongs 
to  great  natures.  There  was  a  certain  trace 
of  unconscious,  tender  wistf  ulness  in  his  man- 
ner toward  his  wife  which  added  yet  another 
to  the  peculiar  elements  of  a  situation  which 
Holt  found  less  and  less  to  his  mind,  for  he 
felt  himself  altogether  the  guest  of  the  wife 
rather  than  of  the  husband. 

However,  Sunday  passed  most  agreeably, 
Mrs.  Earle  with  fine  tact  leaving  her  guest 
much  of  the  time  to  himself.  Then  the 
warm  summer  night  fell  over  the  mountain, 


106  HOLT  OF   HEATHFIELD 

bringing  the  deep  hush  and  mystery  of  its 
silence,  and  they  sat  together  on  the  wide 
porch  and  watched  the  stars  appear.  Mrs. 
Earle  quietly  left  her  place  after  a  time  quite 
as  a  matter  of  course,  and  entering  the  wide 
hall  of  the  house,  opened  her  piano  and  began 
to  play  softly. 

For  a  while,  soothed  by  the  music  and  the 
influences  of  the  hour,  Holt  sank  into  a  revery 
from  which  he  was  aroused  by  the  strange, 
new  quality  of  the  music  which  was  now 
streaming  as  in  a  tangible  torrent  around  him 
through  the  open  door. 

Involuntarily  he  rose,  entered  the  dimly 
lighted  hall  and  found  a  seat  where  he  could 
watch  the  player.  Mrs.  Earle  did  not  turn 
her  head  nor  give  any  sign  that  she  perceived 
his  presence,  but  as  she  played  the  sense  of 
a  tragic,  passionate  conflict  was  so  infused 
into  the  chords  that  the  man  beside  her  was 
filled  with  an  inner  trembling.  He  felt  him- 
self growing  confused.  The  utter  silence  and 
remoteness  and  the  great  darkness  of  the 
world  outside  encompassed  the  lonely  moun- 


CRESCENDO  107 

tain  cabin.  They  wrapped  themselves  about 
the  shadowy  place  where  he  sat  alone  with 
this  deep-eyed  woman ;  and  in  the  heart  of  the 
silence  and  the  loneliness  her  heart  poured  itself 
out  in  this  throbbing,  passionate  flood  of  music. 

The  music  died  away.  Holt  drew  a  deep 
breath  which  betrayed  the  tension  he  had 
been  under.  Mrs.  Earle  clasped  her  hands, 
and  resting  them  upon  the  upright  piano  laid 
her  cheek  against  them  and  looked  gently 
over  to  where  he  sat.  Something  in  the 
attitude,  in  the  glance,  was  strangely  pathetic. 
She  seemed  young,  girlish,  almost  pleading. 

Still  Holt  did  not  speak. 

"  I  never  played  like  that  before,"  she  al- 
most whispered  after  a  little  space.  Her  lips 
trembled  slightly.  Then,  "One  can  say  in 
music  what  could  never  be  put  in  words." 

"  Very  true,"  replied  Holt,  mechanically, 
growing  vaguely  uneasy. 

"  It  is  not  wrong  ?  Tell  me,  Mr.  Holt,  you 
do  not  blame  me  ?  I  have  lived  such  a 
strange,  suppressed  life.  Nobody  guesses  the 
underlying  tragedy." 


108  HOLT  OF   HEATHFIELD 

Holt  thought  of  the  good  old  doctor  and 
that  patient  wistfulness  of  his  face  and  be- 
gan to  guess,  himself. 

"  Oh,  can  you  fancy,"  she  cried  then,  im- 
petuously, "  what  it  must  be  to  go  through 
life  missing  the  sympathy  for  which  one's 
whole  being  cries  out  ?  Never  to  be  com- 
prehended in  the  higher,  deeper  things  —  to 
keep  pent  up  through  all  the  years  these 
yearnings  " — 

"  No, "  remarked  Holt,  quietly  interrupting 
her  hasty,  impetuous  utterance,  "  I  really  do 
not  think  I  can  form  the  slightest  notion  of  it." 

She  gazed  at  him  in  unaffected  surprise. 
He  rose  and  took  a  turn  up  and  down  the  hall. 

In  a  sudden  flash  of  perception  the  na- 
ture of  the  woman,  her  aims  and  methods, 
yes,  the  whole  line  of  her  attack  from  the 
motherly  care  of  him  at  Heathfield  up  to 
this  well-planned  dramatic  climax  alone  on 
the  mountain  side,  seemed  to  lie  bare  before 
him.  He  was  glad  to  turn  away  from  her 
that  she  might  not  see  the  irrepressible  scorn 
which  compressed  his  lips.  It  hurt  him  to 


CRESCENDO  109 

feel  it.  He  had  so  thoroughly  reverenced 
Mrs.  Earle,  so  fully  believed  in  her.  Was  it 
then  impossible  for  a  woman  to  be  true, 
straightforward,  simple  ?  Was  this  insatiable 
vanity  always  the  regnant  power  to  which 
loyalty,  truth,  honor  even,  must  be  sac- 
rificed ?  He  knew  that  Mrs.  Earle  would 
never  break  her  wifely  faith  in  the  letter, 
but  in  the  spirit  he  perceived  that  she 
broke  it  with  every  breath  she  drew.  A 
groan  had  almost  escaped  his  lips,  but  he 
forced  it  back  as  he  turned  again  and  faced 
his  hostess.  She  had  grown  paler  than  her 
wont.  She  knew  that  she  had  missed  her 
aim.  The  words  which  had  risen  to  Holt's 
lips  died  away  then.  What  was  he  that  he 
should  call  her  to  account  or  seek  to  re- 
mind her  of  the  noble  realities  she  was  losing 
in  her  sentimental  craving  for  sensation  ? 
He  was  too  young  to  do  it  in  words,  but 
hardly  could  she  escape  the  admonition  of  his 
brief,  formal  excuse  to  bid  her  good  night, 
his  sudden  withdrawal  to  his  room  upstairs. 
In  the  morning  he  departed,  as  expected, 


110  HOLT  OF   HEATHFIELD 

before  Mrs.  Earle  became  visible,  leaving 
cordial  greetings  and  thanks  with  her  maid 
for  the  hospitality  he  had  enjoyed. 

During  the  weeks  which  followed,  while 
yet  he  was  absent  from  his  parish,  a  letter 
from  Mrs.  Earle  to  Mrs.  Cushier  contained 
these  sentences  of  plaintive  suggestion  and 
mysterious  significance:  — 

"Be  good  to  Murray  Holt  —  for  my  sake. 
He  is  very  lonely.  It  was  a  strange  experi- 
ence, that  Sunday  he  was  here.  Poor  fel- 
low—  it  is  not  best  for  him  to  see  me  often, 
but  that  is  a  secret.  Why  is  it  given  to 
some  of  us  to  bring  trouble  to  those  we 
long  to  help?" 

Reading  which  interesting  suggestions, 
Gladys  Cushier  was  filled  with  young,  un- 
utterable scorning  of  the  man  who  had  so 
easily  fallen  into  the  trap  which  she  had 
so  plainly  seen  set  for  him ;  the  man  who 
held  himself  impressively  aloof  from  frank, 
natural  intercourse  with  simple-hearted  girls, 
only  to  hover  in  sentimental  melancholy 
around  this  middle-aged,  married  coquette. 


CKESCENDO  111 

Which  goes  to  show  that  the  Over-soul  was 
even  more  subtle  than  Glee  suspected,  and 
that  that  astute  young  lady  was  for  once 
herself  played  upon. 

As  a  consequence  Glee  reacted  sharply  to 
her  earlier  attitude  of  critical  antagonism  to 
the  Old  North  Church  and  its  pastor.  She 
regarded  with  scarcely  concealed  disdain  the 
vain  efforts  of  the  girls  in  the  church  to 
charm  Murray  Holt  into  some  small  show  of 
attention  to  themselves,  and  firmly  decided 
to  hold  aloof  from  all  their  official  activi- 
ties. Nevertheless,  being  full  of  energy  and 
purpose,  she  began  to  look  about  her  for 
some  altruistic  line  of  work  on  which  to  ap- 
ply the  results  of  her  long  and  serious  train- 
ing. This  she  found  in  a  mission  which  the 
Old  North  Church  had  carried  on  for  years, 
somewhat  languidly,  at  the  Ledge,  a  settle- 
ment of  quarrymen  and  their  families  a  few 
miles  out  of  Heathfield.  It  was  a  bleak, 
forbidding  spot  and  possessed  an  unsavory 
reputation.  This  work,  consisting  of  a  Sun- 
day School  and  a  week-night  popular  gath- 


112  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

ering,  was  conducted  chiefly  by  Mr.  Parrish, 
the  pastor's  assistant,  and  a  few  aides. 
Here  at  least  Glee  could  engage  in  Christian 
work  and  yet  feel  herself  safe  from  all  per- 
sonal encounter  with  Murray  Holt.  His  in- 
terest in  the  Ledge  mission  was  mainly 
expressed  in  a  very  determined  effort  toward 
the  revocation  of  the  license  of  a  saloon 
which  was  the  haunt  of  all  the  worst  char- 
acters of  the  little  settlement,  and  the  breed- 
ing-place of  evil  and  mischief.  Holt  had 
never  made  a  practice  of  regular,  personal 
attendance  at  the  Ledge  meetings,  and  after 
Glee  began  to  work  there  his  visits  ceased 
entirely. 


CHAPTER   X 

IN    AN    OLD    ALCOVE 

MURRAY  HOLT  returned  to  his  parish  work 
in  Heathfield  in  September  in  prime  physical 
condition,  but  with  an  unlucky  little  twist  in 
his  mental  processes.  This  he  owed  to  Mrs. 
Earle,  who  had  come  perilously  near  turning 
him  into  a  woman-hater.  He  was  too  manly  a 
fellow  to  become  cynical,  too  modest  to  over- 
estimate his  own  importance  to  the  women  he 
met ;  but  he  could  not  be  blind  to  the  palpa- 
ble, persistent  pursuit  of  himself  by  mothers 
and  daughters ;  it  was  no  longer  a  mere 
annoyance  ;  it  had  become  a  bugbear. 

It  was  therefore  with  a  sense  of  invincible 
repugnance  that  he  found  in  October  that  the 
church  calendar  required  his  presence  and  a 
brief  address  from  him  at  the  annual  meeting 
of  the  Young  Ladies'  Society  of  his  church. 

i  113 


114  HOLT   OF  HEATHFIELD 

Crossing  the  lawn  in  the  golden  afternoon 
light  sifting  down  through  yellow  leaves,  Holt 
reflected  that  Daniel  entering  a  den  of  lions 
would  be  an  object  of  envy  in  comparison. 

He  set  his  square  jaws  a  trifle  squarer  and 
betook  himself  manfully  to  the  large,  well- 
appointed  ladies'  parlor  in  a  wing  of  the 
church.  Opening  the  door  he  found  the  room 
already  full  of  girls  of  all  ages  charmingly 
dressed,  chattering  gayly  in  groups.  In  pre- 
vious years  this  organization  had  languished, 
and  its  annual  meeting  had  been  but  sparsely 
attended ;  a  dozen  members  would  have  been 
considered  something  of  an  achievement,  but 
all  this  was  changed  for  the  better  since  the 
coming  of  the  present  pastor. 

As  Murray  Holt  entered  the  room,  bright 
with  flowers,  sunshine,  and  motley  garments 
in  process  of  making,  there  was  a  perceptible 
flutter  and  sensation.  Bright  faces  bright- 
ened ;  unconscious  attitudes  were  changed ; 
furtive  touches  were  given  to  braids  and  rib- 
bons, and  all  eyes  were  directed  to  the  one 
central  figure  as  he  strode  down  the  room  and 


IN  AN   OLD  ALCOVE  115 

took  the  chair  which  was  placed  for  him  upon 
a  low  platform. 

Cecil  Compton,  who  seemed  in  every  word 
and  gesture  quite  unconsciously  to  proclaim 
a  singular  fitness  for  church  leadership,  acted 
as  president.  While  she  was  calling  the  meet- 
ing to  order  and,  with  astonishing  punctilious- 
ness in  the  matter  of  parliamentary  law,  was 
putting  forward  the  business  of  the  hour, 
Holt,  from  his  place  a  little  apart,  surveyed 
the  assembly. 

He  noted  the  graceful  figures,  the  perfect 
coiffures,  the  clear-eyed,  clear-tinted  faces,  the 
inevitable  gold  thimble  on  each  pretty  hand, 
the  prevailing  air  of  well-being  and  self-satis- 
faction. Every  girl  of  position  in  the  parish 
was  there,  he  thought,  save  one.  Gladys 
Cushier  was  absent,  but  that  was  a  matter 
of  course.  Inconsistently  enough,  the  young 
man  was  equally  vexed  with  the  rest  for 
their  presence  and  with  Glee  for  her  absence. 
Theoretically  she  was  the  one  girl  in  the 
parish  whose  utter  indifference  to  himself 
pleased  and  satisfied  him.  Practically,  how- 


116  HOLT   OF  HEATHFIBLD 

ever,  her  aloofness  had  become  a  secret  vexa- 
tion to  him.  He  knew,  or  thought  he  knew, 
the  motives  and  views  which  influenced  her 
in  her  withdrawal  from  all  conventional 
church  activities,  and  led  her  to  throw  herself 
with  ardent  devotion  into  the  Ledge  mission. 

Cecil  Compton,  the  preliminary  business 
over,  turned  now  to  the  pastor  with  a  charm- 
ing color  rising  in  her  cheeks  and  a  pretty 
shyness,  and  signified  that  they  were  eager 
to  listen  to  what  he  wished  to  say  to  them. 
Needles  and  needlework  had  of  course  long 
since  been  put  aside,  and  each  girl  from  her 
place  gazed  in  mute,  worshipful  expectancy 
at  the  strong,  rugged  face  and  form,  as  Holt 
rose,  thrust  one  hand  into  his  pocket,  and 
began  to  speak. 

"  Miss  Compton,  your  president,"  he  began, 
bowing  to  that  young  lady  with  character- 
istic abruptness,  "says  that  you  are  eager  to 
listen  to  what  I  have  to  say.  Now  I  have  all 
possible  respect  for  Miss  Compton's  sincerity, 
but  I  have  serious  doubts  as  to  the  actual 
facts  in  this  case.  I  have  an  idea  that  per- 


IN  AN  OLD   ALCOVE  117 

haps  not  one  person  here  will  care  to  listen 
to  what  I  have  to  say  —  that  not  one  will 
welcome  or  accept  it.  To  tell  the  truth,  I  am 
not  deeply  impressed  with  the  effectiveness 
of  this  organization,  good  as  I  believe  its 
purposes  to  be,  nor  quite  satisfied  that  it  is 
taking  hold  of  the  problem  of  aid  to  the  poor 
at  the  right  end." 

A  slight,  involuntary  stir  of  restlessness  and 
surprise  ran  through  the  company  as  they 
listened  to  these  abrupt  sentences.  Decidedly 
this  was  a  departure  from  the  pastor's  ad- 
dress to  which  they  were  accustomed.  This 
was  the  occasion  for  conventional  compliment 
and  congratulation.  This  annual  speech  was 
wont  to  begin  with  fervent  praise  of  their 
womanly  devotion  in  the  past  and  to  proceed 
with  confident  prophecy  of  the  great  good 
they  were  destined  to  accomplish  in  the 
future.  But  perhaps  this  was  a  new  method 
of  oratorical  effect.  Perhaps  the  flattery  was 
to  come  last.  They  waited  breathlessly. 

"  Let  us  look  at  it  a  little  together,"  pro- 
ceeded Holt,  by  no  means  ungently.  "  You 


118  HOLT   OF  HEATHFIELD 

come  here  to  this  fragrant,  beautiful  room 
once  in  a  week  or  so  and  have  a  capital  visit 
together  while  you  make  garments  for  poor 
folk,  and  distribute  them  exactly  as  your 
mothers  and  grandmothers  did  in  past  genera- 
tions, except  that  you  wear  better  clothes 
than  they  and  that  in  all  your  surroundings 
there  is  far  greater  luxury.  Meanwhile  in 
the  industrial  world,  in  the  field  of  labor 
and  poverty,  all  has  changed,  and  yet  the 
church  here  and  nearly  everywhere  goes  on 
complacently  with  its  old  outworn  methods. 
"  I  beg  of  you,  do  not  be  satisfied  with  giv- 
ing clothes  to  poor  folks,  so  teaching  them 
dependence  and  inefficiency.  Help  them  not 
to  be  poor  folks !  Help  them  to  help  them- 
selves. This  that  you  are  doing  is  easy ! 
This  is  kindergarten  work.  Who  would  not 
like  to  come  here  and  have  a  sociable  after- 
noon, a  kind  of  ecclesiastical  kaffee-klatsch, 
followed  by  the  agreeable  exercise  of  dis- 
tributing nice  warm  garments  to  those  who 
praise  and  bless  your  bounty  ?  Does  that 
call  for  sacrifice  ?  Believe  me,  no  profoundly 


IN  AN  OLD   ALCOVE  119 

good  results  follow  processes  so  light.  Noth- 
ing in  this  world  that  is  worth  much  comes 
so  smoothly,  with  so  little  self-giving.  It 
would  be  another  thing  to  go  down  into  Ship 
Street  and  Foundry  Street  and  visit  in  the 
homes  of  these  people ;  to  learn  their  sorrows, 
to  help  them  bear  their  burdens  in  true  and 
hearty  fellowship,  to  show  them  how  to  sew, 
how  to  cook,  how  to  live,  to  help  them  in 
the  care  of  their  sick  and  their  sinful. 

"  Another  thing.  Do  you  sometimes  stop 
to  consider  that  while  you  are  handing 
out  with  well-meant  charity  these  plain,  ser- 
viceable garments,  which  to  you  seem  adapted 
to  '  the  poor,'  the  young  girls  in  these  fami- 
lies, the  factory  girls,  the  girls  who  stand  at 
hard  labor  for  ten  long  hours  of  every  day, 
look  altogether  past  those  garments,  and  their 
envious,  wistful  eyes  scan  your  costly,  luxu- 
rious apparel  —  God  knows  how  often  to  their 
own  piteous  shame  and  undoing  ?  I  tell  you 
the  clothes  you  wear  are  having  a  hundred 
times  the  influence  that  the  clothes  you  give 
away  can  have." 


120  HOLT  OF   HEATHFIELD 

Having  thus  ruthlessly  fluttered  the  dove- 
cotes, Murray  Holt,  a  certain  sternness  of 
mood  still  mastering  him,  passed  from  the 
church  and  walked  down  Broad  Street  to  an 
old  Doric,  stone-pillared  building,  known  as 
the  Athenseum,  and  entered  between  its  som- 
bre iron  gates. 

The  Athenaeum  was  not  a  modern  busi- 
nesslike public  library,  but  rather  an  old-time 
relic,  sustained  in  all  its  primitive  ways  by 
the  private  subscriptions  of  Heathfield's  older 
inhabitants,  to  whom  it  spoke  of  the  earlier 
time  when  the  town  was  altogether  dreamy 
and  unenterprising.  The  dim  and  dusky  in- 
terior was  pervaded  by  the  odor  of  sheep- 
skin and  yellowing  leaves.  Fading  portraits 
of  forgotten  worthies  hung  on  pillars  in 
the  rotunda,  with  gaunt-eyed  bronze  busts 
glooming  between. 

Holt,  who  was  an  habitue  of  the  place, 
passed  through  the  dim  rotunda  and  down  a 
long  corridor  to  a  remote  alcove,  marked 
"  Sociological."  The  light  here  was  even 
duskier  than  in  the  rotunda,  and  not  until  he 


IN   AN  OLD   ALCOVE  121 

had  entered  the  deep,  book-lined  recess  and 
cast  his  quick,  practised  eyes  across  several 
rows  of  books  did  he  perceive  that  some  one 
was  in  the  alcove  before  him.  On  a  low 
wooden  stool  in  the  farthest  corner  Gladys 
Cushier  sat,  a  book  open  on  her  knee,  her 
face  lifted,  full  of  surprise  at  the  sudden 
interruption. 

Holt's  first  impulse,  feeling  himself  an  un- 
welcome intruder,  was  to  hastily  withdraw 
with  a  word  of  apology,  but  the  latent  vexa- 
tion in  his  mind  toward  this  girl  suddenly 
became  acute  as  he  saw  her  here,  deliberately 
ignoring  the  church  appointment  which  should 
have  naturally  claimed  her  presence. 

An  impulse  of  severity  toward  Glee  in  her 
persistent  withdrawal  arose  in  him,  a  part  of 
the  grimness  of  his  mood  toward  womankind 
in  general  that  day.  Instead  of  taking  him- 
self off  he  stood,  leaning  against  the  book- 
shelves, hat  in  hand,  and  remarked  in  a  cold 
undertone,  looking  down  upon  her :  — 

"  I  am  surprised  to  find  you  here,  Miss 
Cushier,  this  afternoon." 


122  HOLT  OF   HEATHFIELD 

"  I  come  here  often,"  returned  Glee,  not 
choosing  to  catch  his  meaning. 

"  You  are  aware  that  there  is  a  meeting  of 
your  society  at  the  church  at  this  hour  ?  " 

«  It  is  not  my  society,  Mr.  Holt." 

"But  why  not?  It  is  for  ail  the  young 
ladies  of  the  church.  You  come  within  that 
class,  do  you  not?"  And  his  eyes  searched 
her  face  steadily. 

« I  have  been  away  so  long."  Glee  hesitated 
a  little.  "  I  do  not  think  I  am  fitted  for  the 
kind  of  work  the  girls  are  doing  in  the  society. 
I  hate  to  sew." 

"Not  more  than  you  hate  all  other  forms 
of  church  work,  I  think,"  said  Holt,  quietly. 

Glee's  eyes  fell,  and  an  unwonted  timidity 
kept  her  silent. 

"  It  is  very  easy,  Miss  Cushier,"  Holt  went 
on,  "  to  see  the  imperfections  in  all  our  familiar 
methods  of  working.  Possibly  you  have  not 
realized  yet  how  very  hard  a  thing  it  is  to  do 
even  a  little  good.  To  me  it  seems  better  to 
try  and  fail  than  not  to  try  at  all." 

"But  I  do  try,"  protested  Glee,  her  color 


IN   AN   OLD  ALCOVE  123 

rising,  her  eyes  darkening ;  "  I  do  try  to  do  a 
little  work  out  at  the  Ledge  Mission." 

"  Certainly  you  do.  I  know  that  perfectly, 
and  approve  of  it,  so  far  as  it  goes.  That 
appeals  to  you  as  something  original  and 
spontaneous ;  not  hackneyed,  conventional, 
commonplace.  Therefore  you  are  willing  to 
throw  yourself  into  it,  not  considering  how 
quickly  all  our  efforts  stiffen  into  routine,  no 
matter  with  what  fresh  impulse  they  may 
be  begun." 

"  I  do  not  think  my  work  out  there  is 
wholly  a  matter  of  taste,"  said  Glee,  rebel- 
liously. 

"  It  is  more  so  than  you  think,"  was  the 
reply.  "  I  am  on  the  warpath  as  a  denun- 
ciatory prophet  this  afternoon,  and  having 
made  all  the  other  young  ladies  wretched,  I 
am  inclined  not  to  spare  you,  for  really,  I 
think  you  deserve  more  than  the  rest." 

"  You  think  then  that  I  fancy  myself 
superior  to  the  other  girls  because  I  do  not 
work  with  them  ?  " 

Holt  assented. 


124  HOLT  OF   HEATHFIELD 

"  What  an  egotist  I  must  be  ! "  exclaimed 
Glee,  hotly. 

"Unconsciously  so,"  was  the  quiet  answer. 

Glee  looked  up,  and  squarely  meeting  his 
eyes  found  in  them  no  relenting  as  they  met 
the  defiance  of  her  own. 

"  Miss  Cushier,"  Holt  resumed  coldly,  «  you 
utterly  repudiate  my  right  to  make  these  or 
any  other  strictures  upon  your  line  of  action?  " 

Glee  nodded  slightly. 

"Nevertheless,  I  believe  I  am  within  my 
province." 

Glee  turned  meditative  for  a  moment. 
To  be  sure,  he  was  her  pastor.  Then  looking 
up  with  a  faint  shadow  of  her  brilliant  smile 
she  said :  — 

"Very  well.  What  would  you  have  me 
do  ?  Not  that  I  fancy  I  shall  do  it." 

« I  think  you  will,"  said  Holt,  gravely.  "  I 
think  what  I  may  say  to  you  will  appeal  to 
you  as  worth  consideration.  I  am  in  no  mood 
to  flatter  you  or  anybody.  I  rather  think 
you  know  that  is  not  my  habit.  But  I  will 
say  frankly  that  you  seem  to  me  to  have  a 


IN  AN  OLD  ALCOVE  125 

nature  generous,  ardent,  and  effective,  which, 
however,  you  permit  to  be  ruled  to  a  great 
extent  by  impulse.  You  call  all  things  as 
they  exist  into  question,  being  confident  of 
your  ability  to  produce  new  and  better 
methods." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Holt,  I  am  not  so  vain  as  that ! " 
exclaimed  the  girl. 

"Listen,  please.  I  can  see  plainly  that 
your  position  is  a  somewhat  difficult  one. 
You  have  the  misfortune  not  to  like  your 
pastor,  which  is  not  at  all  your  fault.  I 
cannot  see  why  you  should.  But  this  natu- 
rally increases  your  unsympathetic  attitude 
toward  the  church  and  its  workings.  Now, 
what  if  you  were  to  try  to  relegate  that 
factor  to  the  background  of  your  conscious- 
ness,—  to  eliminate  it  from  your  problem  of 
life  and  action?" 

Holt  asked  the  question  with  impartial 
gravity. 

"  I  might  try,"  murmured  Glee,  with  a 
touch  of  mischievousness,  adding  to  herself, 
"  If  only  it  were  not  for  the  Over-soul ! " 


126  HOLT  OF   HEATHFIELD 

"  What  if  you  were  to  consider  that  you 
are  still  somewhat  young,  a  trifle  inexperi- 
enced, and  that  there  may  still  be  something 
to  be  said  for  the  forms  and  channels  of 
Christian  work  which  others  have  tested 
and  found,  however  imperfect,  of  some  small 
value  ?  What  if  you  were  willing  to  infuse 
the  genius,  the  radiance  of  a  quite  excep- 
tional personality  into  things  as  they  are, 
and  thus  perhaps  impart  to  them  the  fulness 
of  life  which  it  has  pleased  God  to  impart 
to  you?" 

These  words  were  spoken  with  the  same 
severe,  impersonal  neutrality  which  had  be- 
longed to  all  that  Holt  had  said.  They  could 
not  be  turned  aside  as  compliment.  Glee's 
intuition  saved  her  from  such  a  blunder. 

"Miss  Cushier,"  Holt  continued  with  deeper 
gravity,  "  I  admit  that  this  began  rather 
absurdly  on  my  part,  but  seriously,  the  time 
in  which  we  are  living  is  so  great  and  so 
critical,  the  Christian  Church  is  being  so 
hard  tested  to  show  whether  it  can  bring 
its  motive  power  to  bear  upon  the  actual 


IN  AN  OLD   ALCOVE  127 

conditions  of  modern  life,  that  earnest  per- 
sons cannot  be  allowed  to  work  at  cross- 
purposes.  God's  work  is  too  stern,  too  vital, 
for  small  misunderstandings  to  find  place 
in  it.  The  odds  are  awfully  against  us,  I 
sometimes  fear,  at  best." 

There  was  a  long  silence,  in  which  Glee 
mused  deeply,  and  during  which  the  cold- 
ness and  grimness  of  Holt's  temper  under- 
went a  thawing  process,  for  when  he  spoke 
again  it  was  to  say  with  an  odd,  little 
smile :  — 

"  You  see  I  have  been  trying  to  think 
how  to  make  a  good  girl  of  you,  if  I  can." 

"  It  seems  so  strange  —  I  know  I  have 
been  disagreeable,  but  I  did  not  suppose 
you  ever  bothered  about  me  at  all." 

"  Only  when  I  cannot  help  myself ;  be  sure 
of  that." 

"Then  I  have  really  been  a  knotty  prob- 
lem ?  "  she  murmured,  with  a  falling  cadence. 

"  One  of  the  knottiest ! "  said  Holt,  and 
laughed  a  little. 

He  turned  then  with  his  habitual   abrupt- 


128  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

ness,  and  began  to  scan  the  rows  of  books 
in  search  of  the  volume  he  had  come  for. 
Glee,  the  while,  sat  still  in  her  corner  gravely 
regarding  him,  never  dreaming  that  no  look 
of  hers  was  lost  upon  him.  In  reality,  be- 
neath his  mask  of  cold,  detached  indifference, 
Murray  Holt  was  at  the  moment  thrillingly 
conscious  of  her  personality,  in  all  its  subtle 
and  contradictory  charm.  The  girl's  head 
resting  against  the  red  and  yellow  leather 
of  "  Penal  Institutions,"  with  the  round  chin 
lifted,  the  scarlet  lip  caught  by  the  white 
teeth  in  a  kind  of  lingering  defiance,  the 
eyes  sweet  with  humility,  deep  and  pathetic 
with  new  perception,  struck  him  as  more 
wholly  lovely  than  anything  he  had  known. 
Her  sincerity  and  simplicity  contrasted 
strongly  with  the  self-consciousness,  the  arti- 
ficiality of  the  girls  with  whom  he  was 
most  familiar.  Her  occasional  rebellious 
haughtiness  seemed  to  him  to  give  an  inim- 
itable accent  to  her  nature  and  to  make 
her  the  more  irresistibly  captivating.  She 
would  give  a  man  plenty  to  do,  and  none 


IN  AN   OLD  ALCOVE  129 

too  much  ease,  but  she  was  real,  and  her 
reality  shone  out  now  with  the  softly  daz- 
zling radiance  of  womanhood  at  its  gentlest 
and  best.  But  Glee  was  farthest  from  guess- 
ing that  it  was  with  thoughts  of  herself 
that  Murray  Holt  was  absorbed. 

Plainly,  she  thought,  he  was  through  with 
her  now.  His  whole  attention  was  given 
to  his  search  for  some  needed  passage  through 
book  after  book.  At  length  he  appeared 
to  find  what  he  sought.  Holding  the  book 
open  he  fumbled  through  his  pockets  for 
a  piece  of  paper  on  which  to  make  notes, 
his  pencil  between  his  teeth.  Glee  saw  him 
take  from  a  handful  of  letters  a  thick,  creamy, 
square  envelope.  She  instantly  recognized 
the  handwriting  of  the  address  as  that  of 
Marie  Earle,  and  in  the  same  instant  per- 
ceived that  the  seal  was  unbroken,  the  en- 
velope unopened.  In  amazement  she  reflected 
that  the  Over-soul  had  been  in  Italy  now 
for  six  weeks.  This  letter  which  Holt  seemed 
to  find  peculiarly  adapted  by  reason  of  its 
broad,  white  surface,  to  his  purpose  of  mak- 


130  HOLT   OF  HEATHFIELD 

ing  notes,  bore  an  American,  not  a  foreign, 
stamp  and  postmark.  It  must,  therefore, 
be  at  least  six  weeks  old ;  even  now  it  was 
unopened ! 

As  he  carelessly  turned  the  envelope  over 
and  laid  it  on  the  open  page  of  his  book, 
Holt  glanced  at  Glee  and  commented  casu- 
ally:— 

"Some  time  I  expect  to  catch  up  with 
my  mail,  Miss  Cushier.  My  pockets  are 
always  full  of  letters  which  I  have  forgotten 
to  read.  But  they  will  keep." 

Glee  opened  her  eyes. 

Five  minutes  later  Holt  left  the  alcove 
marked  "Sociological,"  not  having  spoken 
again. 


CHAPTER   XI 

A    STUDY    IN    ECONOMICS 

AT  ten  o'clock  of  a  morning  some  days  later 
Gladys  Cushier  appeared  on  her  veranda,  her 
hands  full  of  papers.  Her  air  was  alert  and 
businesslike,  the  manner  of  one  who  has  no 
time  to  spare. 

"  Now  I  should  like  to  see  my  neighbor," 
she  was  thinking,  "  and  lo  and  behold,"  as  she 
glanced  between  the  thinned  branches  of  the 
wistaria  vine  "  he  is  on  his  way  !  How  oblig- 
ing of  you,  Mr.  Compton,"  she  remarked  aloud 
as  that  gentleman  now  appeared  at  the  foot  of 
the  steps. 

«  Obliging  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  was  just  wishing  to  see  you." 
"  Would  that  happened  of tener  ! " 
"  Nonsense,  Larry,  don't  take  that  tone." 
"  Very  well.     What  a  charming  gown  then ! 
Is  that  Miss  Frere's  latest  achievement  ?  " 
"  Yes ;  do  you  like  it  ?  " 

131 


132  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

"  Words  are  cold." 

The  dress  of  dull  blue  cloth  fitted  the  deli- 
cate shape  of  the  girl  exquisitely,  and  set  off 
the  sparkling  radiance  of  her  face  and  the 
masses  of  dark  hair.  In  her  present  mood  and 
guise  Compton  found  a  peculiar  charm.  Be- 
sides, the  summer  was  long  since  ended.  It 
was  time  to  be  in  earnest.  She  had  been  pro- 
vokingly  elusive  and  wilfully  unapproachable 
this  summer. 

"  Glee,"  Compton  spoke  with  a  sudden  ob- 
scure impulse,  whose  source  he  could  hardly 
have  traced,  "  I  want  you  to  promise  me  not 
to  go  down  to  that  odious  Ledge  meeting  to- 
night. Honestly,  it  is  no  place  for  girls  like 
you  with  all  those  ruffians.  I  have  forbidden 
Cecil's  going  with  you." 

There  was  a  slight,  almost  imperceptible,  tilt 
of  defiance  in  Glee's  daintily  poised  head. 

"  Cecil  is  a  dear,  obedient  girl,"  she  said 
demurely. 

"And  you  are  a  dear,  disobedient  one,"  he 
cried,  taking  her  little  hands  in  his  and  looking 
into  her  face. 


A  STUDY  IN  ECONOMICS  133 

He  was  handsome,  well-groomed ;  his  man- 
ner, although  affectionate,  was  perfectly  cor- 
rect, but  Glee's  liveliest  impression  at  the 
moment  was  that  she  wondered  she  had  never 
noticed  before  how  much  he  looked  like  a 
well-fed  and  prosperous  spider. 

"  Larry,  please  let  go.  You  will  make  me 
drop  these  things."  And  Glee  not  gently 
withdrew  her  hands,  glancing  as  she  did  so  at 
the  papers  in  them. 

"But  suppose  you  let  the  things  go,  you 
wilful  child,  for  once.  I  have  been  waiting 
a  good  while  —  " 

"But,  Larry,"  cried  the  girl,  urgently,  "I 
have  at  least  fifty  questions  to  ask  you,  and  I 
am  in  such  a  hurry.  You  see  I  have  only  a 
few  days  more  for  my  paper  for  our  College 
Women's  Club  in  New  York.  We  meet  next 
Monday.  My  subject  is  '  Industrial  Conditions 
in  the  Average  Factory  Town.'  You  can  help 
me  a  lot  on  that,  can't  you  ?  "  she  hurried 
on. 

"  You  have  fifty  questions,  Glee,  and  I  have 
only  one,"  began  Compton,  significantly. 


134  HOLT   OF   HEATHFIELD 

" '  The  night  has  a  thousand  eyes 
And  the  day  but  one ! ' " 

sang  Glee  with  an  air  of  exaggerated  senti- 
ment which  effectually  scattered  any  approach 
toward  seriousness. 

Compton  bit  his  lip.  Once  more  she  had 
evaded  his  one  question.  What  did  it  signify? 
He  was  sure  her  attitude  had  been  very  differ- 
ent at  the  beginning  of  the  summer.  Some 
mysterious,  antagonistic  influence  had  inter- 
posed between  them.  It  had  never  been 
clearly  defined  in  their  familiar,  friendly  inter- 
course, and  yet  it  was  now  always  subtly 
present.  A  dull  color  spread  slowly  over  his 
face  and  a  smothered  anger  rose  within  him  as 
he  turned  with  a  slight  shrug  and  drew  up 
chairs  for  them  both.  The  October  day  was 
warm  as  summer. 

Let  it  go  for  now,  but  his  time  would  come, 
for  Mr.  Laurence  Compton  distinctly  purposed 
in  his  heart  to  marry  his  piquant  and  pretty 
neighbor,  and  he  was  not  a  man  to  be  easily 
turned  aside  in  his  purpose. 

«  Very  well,  Glee.     What  is  it  you  wish  to 


A  STUDY  IN  ECONOMICS  135 

ask  me  about  ?  You  know  I  am  always  at 
your  service." 

Glee  busily  consulted  the  printed  and  pen- 
cilled notes  which  lay  in  her  lap. 

"  Well,  to  begin  with.  Here  is  my  first 
fact ;  I  have  put  down  already  that  your  fac- 
tory makes  fire-arms  and  guns,  and  that  you 
employ  about  twelve  hundred  men  and 
women." 

Compton  nodded,  conscious  of  an  invincible 
distaste  for  the  unexpected  and  unwelcome 
task  before  him. 

"  The  first  point  upon  which  I  need  enlight- 
enment is  this,"  began  Glee  again.  "  Has  any 
plan  of  profit  sharing  ever  been  employed  in 
your  factory  ?  " 

"Never.  We  do  not  run  to  fads  and 
fancies." 

"  How  many  hours  per  day  do  the  operatives 
work  ?  These  are  our  old  questions  in  econom- 
ics, Larry  —  you  don't  mind  if  I  go  right 
through  the  catechism  ?  " 

"  Ten  in  most  cases.     Certainly  not." 

"  Beginning  at  what  hour  ?  " 


136  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

"  Seven." 

"  How  many  receive  less  than  five  dollars 
and  less  than  six  per  week  ?  " 

"Oh,  I  couldn't  say.  I  guess  the  girls  do 
not  usually  get  more  than  five,  and  the  un- 
skilled laborers  more  than  six.  But  some  of 
the  men  get  high  wages,  you  know,  up  to  two 
dollars  a  day  and  more,  the  real  mechanics." 

"Does  the  factory  furnish  steady  employ- 
ment the  year  round  ?  " 

"  No.  Our  people  are  mostly  * laid  off '  in 
the  summer.  We  have  to  shut  down  from 
three  to  four  months,  you  know." 

"  What  do  the  employees  live  on  when  <  laid 
off'?" 

"  Blessed  if  I  know !  That  is  their  lookout. 
On  their  savings,  I  suppose." 

"  Out  of  five  or  six  dollars  a  week,"  mused 
Glee ;  "  oh,  of  course,"  she  added  soberly. 

Compton  glanced  sharply  in  her  face,  as 
it  bent  industriously  over  her  work,  but 
there  was  no  suggestion  of  sarcasm  there. 
For  his  part  he  was  getting  a  trifle  nettled 
as  the  questioning  went  on.  What  business 


A  STUDY  IN  ECONOMICS  137 

had  those  college  people  setting  girls  up  to 
meddle  with  what  was  of  absolutely  no 
interest  or  concern  to  them  ?  He  had 
never  believed  less  in  higher  education  for 
women ! 

"  Is  there  opportunity  for  promotion  f  " 

Glee  cocked  her  head  in  a  charmingly 
birdlike  pose,  and  asked  the  question  with  a 
cunning  mockery  of  impressive  importance. 

"  Much  you  care !  "  laughed  Compton,  mol- 
lified by  her  pretty  airs.  "  Why  yes,  of 
course,  my  child,  there  is  chance  for  pro- 
motion on  some  lines,  where  there  is  a 
field  for  skill.  A  man,  however,  whose 
business  it  is  to  merely  shovel  coal  or  drive 
the  truck-horses  is  not  likely  to  do  any- 
thing else." 

"As  long  as  he  lives,"  added  Glee,  mus- 
ingly, "there  is  no  scope  for  a  display  of 
talent  there.  Decidedly  they  all  ought  to 
have  trades,  Mr.  Compton,"  with  a  pretty 
pretence  of  experience  and  wisdom. 

"That's  right.  Still,  you  know,  we  must 
have  some  unskilled  labor." 


138  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

"  Can  the  girls  ever  get  more  than  five 
dollars  a  week,  then  ? " 

"Possibly,  the  quickest  of  them." 

"  Do  they  ever  get  less  ?  " 

"Oh,  yes,  five  dollars  is  good  wages  for 
a  girl." 

"What  is  the  minimum?" 

"Two  and  a  half,  perhaps.  Do  you  mind 
if  I  smoke?" 

"  Not  in  the  least.  Two  dollars  and  a 
half,  —  and  out  of  that  they  have  to  pay 
their  board  —  " 

"Really,  Glee,  you  are  beyond  me,  now. 
I  am  not  conversant  with  the  private  life 
of  the  factory  girls.  There  are  plenty  of 
them  glad  to  get  that,  I  can  assure  you," 
and  Compton's  irritation  was  visible  through 
his  chilly  hauteur. 

"Pardon  me,  Larry.  Of  course  that  is 
so.  Then  are  there  —  let  me  see,  where  was 
I? — yes,  here  it  is,  are  there,  for  any  causes, 
deductions  made  in  the  wages  ?  " 

"  Certainly." 

"For  what?" 


A  STUDY  IN   ECONOMICS  139 

"Absence,  for  one  thing." 

"  For  every  cause  ?  —  sickness,  for  in- 
stance ?  " 

"Why,  naturally.  We  should  have  them 
all  sick,  my  dear,  if  we  supported  them  in 
sickness.  Of  course,  in  peculiar  cases,  the 
Company  does  the  proper  thing." 

"  But  that  is  not  business." 

"No,  simply  a  gratuity,  as  in  the  case 
you  may  remember  of  those  men  killed  last 
June  in  that  explosion.  The  Company  bore 
all  the  funeral  expenses,"  he  added  with  a 
slight  accession  of  complacency. 

"How  fine,"  said  Glee,  her  enthusiasm, 
however,  chilled  by  a  sudden  question  as  to 
what  would  be  done  by  the  families  after 
the  funerals  of  their  bread-winners.  She  pro- 
ceeded with  her  questions,  which  were  for 
the  greater  part  on  printed  class  papers. 

"  Are  deductions  made  from  wages  on  legal 
holidays  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  The  men  are  not  paid  when 
they  do  not  work.  That  would  be  un- 
just." 


140  HOLT  OF   HEATHFIELD 

Glee  gave  an  odd  little  gasp  and  her  color 
deepened. 

"  How  in  the  case  of  the  machinery  break- 
ing down,  of  enforced  idleness  ?  " 

"  The  men  have  to  stand  it,  of  course." 

"  You  mean  that  when  they  are  on  hand, 
ready  to  work,  but  cannot  work  because  the 
machinery  is  out  of  order,  their  wages  are 
then  deducted  ?  "  she  asked,  looking  with  an 
ominous  light  in  her  eyes  straight  in  Comp- 
ton's  face. 

«  That's  right.  That's  business,  Glee.  That 
is  the  universal  practice,  you  will  find." 

"That  makes  it  all  right,  doesn't  it?" 
she  murmured  under  her  breath. 

"Now  come  a  lot  of  questions,"  she  began 
after  a  brief  pause,  "about  the  healthful- 
ness  and  safety  of  the  occupation.  I  sup- 
pose in  this  case  it  is  somewhat  dangerous, 
necessarily." 

"Yes.  That  is  unavoidable.  We  regret 
that  side  of  it,  but  fire-arms  have  to  be 
made." 

"Naturally,  else  how  could  the  Boers  have 


A  STUDY  IN  ECONOMICS  141 

been  subjugated,  and  the  Filipinos  benevo- 
lently assimilated  ?  " 

Again  Compton  glanced  with  an  irritated 
misgiving  at  Glee's  face,  but  again  he  found 
it  wholly  innocent  of  satire. 

"  The  next  point  I  have  to  cover,"  she 
proceeded,  "is  about  the  houses  occupied  by 
the  factory  people.  Are  they  owned  by  the 
Company  ?  " 

"Not  in  all  cases  by  any  means." 

"  You  do  not  own  those  rows  on  Ship 
Street  ?  " 

"  No.     Those  are  Binney's." 

"  But  you  do  own  these  tall  tenements  on 
Foundry  Street?" 

"  Yes." 

«  All  of  them  ?  " 

« I  think  so." 

"  Are  these  dwellings  in  good  sanitary 
condition  ?  " 

"  I  really  could  not  say  as  to  that,"  re- 
plied Compton,  his  secret  annoyance  disguised 
in  a  tone  of  airy  negligence.  "  I  don't  meddle 
with  that  part  of  the  business.  It  is  all  in 


142  HOLT   OF  HEATHFIELD 

Miller's  hands."  ("  The  regular  formula," 
thought  Glee.)  "  You  would  have  to  ask 
him.  But  they  must  be  all  right.  They 
are  always  rented." 

"  I  see.  They  don't  have  typhoid  or  diph- 
theria or  any  of  those  zymotic  diseases, 
then  ? "  punctiliously  referring  to  her  paper. 

"Not  that  I  know  of,"  answered  Compton, 
hardily.  He  was  growing  excessively  tired 
of  this  exercise.  "  As  I  told  you  before, 
Glee,  you  will  have  to  ask  Miller  about  all 
those  things." 

"  Yes,"  said  Glee  to  herself,  "  and  hear 
exactly  the  answers  he  is  trained  to  give. 
Thank  you,  I'll  not  trouble,"  she  said  aloud. 

"  Is  the  catechism  nearly  over  ? "  he  in- 
quired with  forced  patience. 

Recognizing  intuitively  that  further  an- 
swers from  Compton  would  be  destitute  of 
value  or  veracity,  Glee  folded  up  her  papers 
with  an  air  of  finality,  and  said :  — 

"Quite  over.  I  am  sorry  it  has  been  so 
tedious." 

Compton  rose. 


A  STUDY  IN  ECONOMICS  143 

"  Not  tedious  in  the  least  for  me,  my  dear 
girl ;  it  is  always  a  pleasure  to  serve  you  — 
that  you  know,"  and  he  valiantly  essayed  a 
playfully  tender  smile,  but  his  inward,  smoul- 
dering heat  and  chagrin  seemed  to  cloud  his 
eyes  as  with  a  smoky  veil. 

"  You  must  learn,  Glee,  my  dear,"  —  he 
had  reached  the  step  now,  — "  that  a  factory 
is  not  precisely  a  benevolent  institution,  an 
Old  Ladies'  Home,  nor  even  a  Hospital  for 
Incurables.  It  is  a  business  enterprise." 

"  So  I  see,"  responded  the  girl,  lightly ; 
"  you  are  not  your  brother's  keeper." 

"  Certainly  I  am  not,"  assented  Compton, 
quickly,  not  recognizing  the  Biblical  allusion. 
Glee's  lips  twitched. 

"  Business,"  he  added  quite  seriously,  stand- 
ing hat  in  hand,  loath  for  some  reason  to 
drop  the  subject  and  let  it  lie  in  its  ugly 
nakedness  just  where  it  had  fallen  between 
them,  "business,  Glee,  is  a  warfare,  a  hand- 
to-hand,  never-ceasing  fight,  for  most  of  us." 

"  A  fight  for  what  ? "  asked  the  girl, 
quickly.  "  To  make  money  ?  to  get  rich, 


144  HOLT   OF  HEATHFIELD 

to  keep  rich  ?  "  Plainly  her  sympathy  was  not 
acutely  enlisted  by  this  impressive  statement. 

"  No,  that  is  only  incidental.  It  is  a  fight 
to  beat,  —  not  to  be  beaten  in  the  game. 
Good  morning,"  and  with  a  courteous  in- 
clination he  turned  away  and  passed  down 
through  the  garden  walk. 

Glee  had  risen  and  stood  for  a  few  mo- 
ments in  silent  abstraction,  watching  his  de- 
parting figure.  Slowly,  imperceptibly  until 
that  moment  to  her  thought,  the  contrast 
between  these  two  men,  Holt  and  Compton, 
had  assumed  fixed  shape.  The  one  with  his 
stern  and  passionate  devotion  to  his  fellow- 
men,  seeking  to  conciliate  no  one,  the  other 
with  his  impervious  selfishness,  his  cynical 
indifference  to  the  sin  and  suffering  of  the 
world  at  large,  thinly  cloaked  in  his  in- 
dulgent personal  generosity  toward  herself. 
How  had  she  ever  for  a  moment  fancied 
that  Compton  could  become  something  near 
and  dear  to  her?  To-day  his  familiarity, 
his  half-caressing  attitude  toward  her  stung 
her  as  insolent  and  insufferable. 


A  STUDY  IN  ECONOMICS  145 

In  the  innermost  depth  of  his  conscious- 
ness Compton  knew  as  he  bade  Glee  good 
morning  that  in  her  present  mood  she  was 
ready  to  dismiss  him  not  only  for  the  mo- 
ment, but,  as  a  lover,  for  all  time  to 
come. 

"  It's  all  that  confounded  parson,"  he 
thought  in  uncontrollable  bitterness  as  he 
went  away,  for  although  she  might  be  uncon- 
scious of  any  preference  for  him,  he  was 
convinced  that  from  Holt  Glee  had  caught 
the  animus  for  this  paper  she  had  under- 
taken to  write.  An  irreconcilable  disparity 
between  her  point  of  view  and  his  own  had 
silently  asserted  itself  during  the  last  hour. 
He  knew  it  perfectly. 

The  suspicion  that  in  her  half-mischievous 
warding  off  of  his  attempt  at  a  declaration 
and  in  the  whole  ensuing  interview  Glee  had 
intentionally  put  an  end  to  his  further  ad- 
vances, filled  him  with  a  rage  of  jealousy. 
And  the  jealousy,  under  the  lash  of  which 
he  suffered,  was  double,  for  it  was  for  Cecil 
as  well  as  for  himself.  His  sister's  some- 


146  HOLT   OF   HEATHFIELD 

what  obvious  preference  for  Holt  had  been 
long,  albeit  tacitly,  taken  for  granted  in  the 
family.  Thus  her  secret  hopes  as  well  as 
his  own  seemed  to  him  threatened. 

After  a  half-hour's  abstracted  pacing  of 
his  private  room  this  much  was  clear  to 
Compton :  Holt  must  leave  the  field  clear 
to  him  in  so  far  as  Glee  was  concerned ; 
must  give  up  all  his  democratic  and  social 
reform  nonsense,  marry  Cecil,  and  settle  into 
the  appropriate  groove  for  the  pastor  of  an 
aristocratic  church,  or  he  must  leave  Heath- 
field,  and  that  in  short  order. 


CHAPTER   XII 

THE    CANDID    FRIEND 

AT  three  o'clock  that  afternoon  Mr. 
Laurence  Compton  alighted  from  his  shining 
trap  before  the  manse  of  the  Old  North 
Church.  Inwardly  he  was  still  breathing  out 
threatenings  and  slaughter,  but  to  all  appear- 
ance he  was  his  perfectly  bred,  composed,  and 
well-regulated  self. 

Mrs.  Fisher,  the  housekeeper,  told  him  that 
Mr.  Holt  was  not  at  home. 

"  This  is  one  of  his  days  in  his  down-town 
office.  He  left  about  ten  o'clock.  He  has 
taken  a  couple  of  rooms  down  in  Ship  Street, 
you  know,  Mr.  Compton,  and  works  there 
forenoons." 

Yes,  Compton  was  aware  of  the  fact,  and 
his  gloomy  brow  indicated  that  he  regarded 
it  with  little  less  than  disgust. 

147 


148  HOLT  OF   HEATHFIELD 

"  Besides,"  continued  Mrs.  Fisher,  "  Mr. 
Holt  is  all  taken  up  now  with  this  excise- 
board  business,  trying  to  get  the  license  taken 
away  from  that  scandalous  Sunflower  Tavern 
out  at  the  Ledge.  So  he  doesn't  stay  in  his 
study  anyhow  very  regular." 

"  I  see,"  replied  Compton,  shortly.  "  What 
is  the  outcome  ?  Do  you  know  ?  " 

"Oh,  yes,  sir.  The  case  came  up  just 
yesterday,  and  Mr.  Holt,  he  appeared  against 
Lorish,  the  man  who  keeps  the  Sunflower, 
and  it  was  a  great  victory.  The  license  was 
revoked.  I  suppose  they  will  be  raging  now 
against  him,  though.  I  declare  I  am  afraid 
for  that  man,  Mr.  Compton,  but  he  don't 
know  what  fear  is  for  himself." 

Compton  gave  a  non-committal,  inarticu- 
late response. 

"But,  come  in,  sir,  won't  you  please?" 
Mrs.  Fisher  went  on  affably,  desirous  of  de- 
taining the  distinguished  caller.  "Mr.  Holt 
will  most  likely  run  in  for  a  bit  about  this 
time  to  get  his  mail." 

Having  seen  the  visitor  help  himself  to  an 


THE  CANDID  FRIEND  149 

easy-chair  in  the  study  the  cheerful  house- 
keeper withdrew. 

Corapton  looked  about  him  at  the  sober 
but  rather  stately  room,  lined  with  books, 
full  of  the  atmosphere  of  brain  work,  and 
destitute  of  all  superfluous  decoration  or 
pretty  bric-a-brac. 

An  enormous  desk  stood  in  the  middle  of 
the  room  with  massive,  mannish  equipment. 
Across  the  morocco-bound  blue  blotter  lay  a 
sheaf  of  magnificent  yellow  chrysanthemums. 
The  sunlight,  pouring  in  at  the  windows, 
seemed  to  concentrate  its  rays  upon  the  great 
blossoms  and  fill  their  petals  with  lambent 
light. 

Compton  felt  his  gaze  drawn  repeatedly 
to  the  brilliant  suffusion  of  color  made  by 
the  flowers,  and  presently  was  aware  that 
he  recognized  in  them  the  product  of  his 
own  greenhouses.  He  rose  and  walked  over 
to  the  desk.  They  were  his  gardener's 
famous  latest  product,  the  "  St.  Cecilia." 

"  Cecil's  work,"  he  thought,  frowning  with 
distaste.  "  I  wish  she  could  let  this  fellow 


150  HOLT  OF   HEATHFIELD 

alone.  She  fairly  throws  herself  at  his 
head." 

At  the  end  of  the  long,  leafy  stalks  of  the 
chrysanthemums  lay  an  envelope,  its  seal 
apparently  hastily  broken,  and  beside  it  an 
open  note.  With  a  careless  glance  Compton's 
eyes  ran  over  the  lines  which  were  in  his 
sister's  handwriting. 

Cecil  wrote  to  say  that  she  could  not  help 
Miss  Cushier  in  the  singing  at  the  Ledge  that 
night  as  she  had  promised,  as  her  brother 
would  not  permit  her  going.  She  was  so 
very  sorry  to  disappoint  him.  Would  it  be 
a  disappointment?  She  dared  not  say  how 
great  a  one  it  was  to  her.  She  sent  the 
flowers  to  convince  him  that  she  had  taken 
all  that  he  said  at  the  Society  meeting  most 
humbly  as  for  herself.  She  longed  to  attain 
to  his  high  ideals,  to  be  noble  and  self- 
sacrificing.  She  believed  that  he  could  teach 
her,  etc.,  etc. 

Compton  returned  to  his  easy-chair  with 
an  expression  of  pungent  disgust. 

"Are   all    girls   such    fools   as   that?"    he 


THE   CANDID  FRIEND  151 

muttered.  "  I  don't  believe  Holt  is  dense 
enough  not  to  see  through  this  stuff  and 
nonsense.  After  such  an  outpour  as  that  I 
may  as  well  show  my  hand." 

At  that  moment  the  door  opened,  Murray 
Holt  entered,  and  hastened  to  cross  the  room 
and  welcome  his  visitor. 

"I  ran  in  to  tell  you  that  my  sister  and 
Miss  Cushier  will  not  be  able  to  attend  your 
meeting  to-night  at  the  Ledge,"  said  Mr. 
Compton,  after  they  had  exchanged  civilities. 
"  You  will  have  to  depend  on  others  for  your 
singing." 

"  Very  well.  It  was  friendly  of  you  to 
take  the  trouble." 

Murray  Holt  did  not  say  that  Cecil  had 
written  him  to  somewhat  the  same  effect. 
He  instinctively  avoided  mentioning  her 
note. 

Compton  now  returned  to  an  easy  position 
in  his  chair,  and  with  a  smile  of  winning 
frankness  said,  «I  believe  I  have  shown 
myself  your  friend,  Holt,  my  dear  fellow, 
since  vou  came  to  Heathfield." 


152  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

"Assuredly,"  said  Holt,  cordially,  seating 
himself. 

"  I  hope  our  relation  is  such  that  even  if 
I  should  be  forced  for  once  to  present  myself 
in  that  ever  unwelcome  role  of  the  candid 
friend,  you  would  not  pray  to  be  delivered 
from  me." 

"  I  think  you  are  safe,  Mr.  Compton.  Try 
it  and  see,"  said  Murray  Holt,  bracing  himself 
unconsciously  as  he  sat. 

"  Well,  you  are  a  busy  man,  and  I  see  I 
must  make  short  work  of  what  I  have  to  say. 
To  dash  straight  into  the  heart  of  the  thing, 
allow  me  to  say  that  you  are  getting  just  a 
little  on  the  wrong  line  lately,  in  your  work 
here  in  Heathfield.  That  is,  in  my  judg- 
ment." 

Holt  faced  his  visitor  steadily.  "Go  on," 
he  said  pleasantly ;  "  I  am  interested." 

"  Sympathy  with  the  working  classes  is  all 
very  well,  Mr.  Holt,  in  its  place.  I  believe  it 
is  unnecessary  for  me  to  say  that  I  am  in 
favor  of  a  liberal  and  philanthropic  attitude 
toward  them.  But  the  Old  North  Church 


THE  CANDID  FRIEND  153 

never  was,  and  never  will  be,  a  church  of 
mechanics." 

"The  Founder  of  the  church  was  a  me- 
chanic, however."  4 

Compton  waved  his  hand  impatiently. 

"  Those  allusions  are  doubtless  effective,  Mr. 
Holt,  from  the  oratorical  point  of  view,  but 
they  have  no  practical  bearing." 

Holt  bent  his  head  as  if  in  assent. 

"  What  some  of  us  feel,  is  that  you  are  try- 
ing in  one  way  and  another  —  I  will  not  go 
into  particulars  —  to  turn  this  church  into  a 
kind  of  mission,  to  bring  the  lower  classes  to 
the  fore  beyond  what  has  ever  been  done  here. 
Now  such  a  course  will  very  soon  alienate  the 
substantial  people  in  the  church,  especially  as 
the  impression  is  given  in  various  ways  that 
you  have  imbibed  a  lot  of  eccentric  notions. 
For  instance,  how  did  you  ever  come  to  mix 
yourself  in  this  excise  business,  that  beastly 
tavern  affair  out  at  the  Ledge  ?  Leave  that 
to  ward  politicians,  Mr.  Holt.  It  is  no  busi- 
ness for  gentlemen." 

Plainly  Compton  was  warming  to  his  theme. 


154  HOLT  OF   HEATHFIELD 

"  There  is  another  question  you  will  pardon 
me  for  asking.  What  in  thunder  do  you 
have  an  office  down  in  that  wretched  alley 

for  ?  " 

t> 

"For  the  reason  that  many  of  my  parish- 
ioners live  there,"  answered  Holt,  quietly. 
"  Having  spent  nearly  a  year  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  my  aristocratic  members  exclusively, 
it  has  seemed  only  reasonable  to  me  to  spend  a 
few  hours  now  and  then  among  these  others." 

"  Certainly  it  is  a  thousand  pities,"  mur- 
mured Compton,  "  that  you  should  make  these 
blunders  now,  for  if  ever  I  saw  a  man  have  a 
fair  start  and  a  fair  field  you  had  them  for 
the  first  six  months  after  you  came  here." 

"  I  hope  I  have  them  still,"  said  Holt, 
whose  face  had  grown  sterner  during  the  last 
few  minutes. 

"  But,  honestly,  you  are  weakening  your  in- 
fluence with  the  men  who  are  your  best  sup- 
porters. I  will  not  say  that  it  is  too  late  yet 
to  retrieve  any  ground  you  may  have  lost. 
Everything  is  yours  yet  to  make  or  lose.  Our 
parish  offers  you  a  simply  ideal  settlement 


THE  CANDID  FRIEND  156 

for  ten  years  to  come,  and  even  longer  for 
that  matter,  unless  you  are  ambitious  for  a 
metropolitan  pulpit.  Your  income  would 
always  be  made  adequate  to  your  needs,  for 
you  have  an  extraordinary  hold  upon  the 
admiration  and  love  of  our  people.  Many 
pleasures  and  advantages,  such  as  travel, 
yachting,  perhaps,  in  foreign  seas,  visits  to 
Egypt,  Greece,  and  all  that  kind  of  thing 
would  come  your  way.  You  would,  of  course, 
have  time  for  all  the  literary  work  on  con- 
genial lines  to  which  your  tastes  may  call  you. 
What  more  can  a  man  desire  in  your  profes- 
sion ?  You  must  marry,  of  course,  in  time, 
and  the  sooner,  for  some  reasons,  the  better. 
It  cannot  be  denied  that  when  you  propose 
marriage  it  will  make  some  stir  and  friction, 
possibly  even  a  crisis,  in  the  church.  If  you 
made  an  unfortunate  choice,  you  might  have 
to  leave  your  field,  as  many  a  man  has  done." 

Holt  merely  nodded. 

"On  the  other  hand,"  pursued  Compton, 
"  it  is  conceivable  that  if  you  made  the  right 
choice  your  marriage  might  immensely 


156  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

strengthen  your  hold  here,  might  give  your 
pastorate  a  permanence  otherwise  impossible. 
I  can  imagine  this  being  the  case." 

"  You  are  very  good  to  have  given  your 
attention  to  the  matter,"  said  Holt,  quietly. 

« Well,  to  tell  the  truth,  my  dear  fellow," 
and  Compton  assumed  a  peculiarly  confiden- 
tial tone,  "  I  have  sometimes  feared  that  you 
underrate  your  own  claims  and  possibilities. 
You  must  not  be  too  distrustful  of  yourself. 
Intellect  and  personal  power  —  manhood,  in 
short  —  will  win  out  anywhere  and  carry  the 
day  with  a  girl  of  the  right  sort,  without 
money.  Of  course  such  a  girl  as  I  speak  of 
would  not  marry  you  as  a  minister,  don't  you 
understand  ?  The  day  is  past  when  a  minis- 
ter's wife  is  in  any  sense  a  functionary,  and  I 
don't  see  why  a  girl  need  hesitate,  if  she  is 
assured  on  her  own  part  of  a  comfortable 
income.  A  girl  with  money  can  afford  to 
marry  a  man  without,  you  see.  Of  course 
this  is  very  delicate  ground,  and  the  less  said 
explicitly  the  better,  but  perhaps  you  under- 
stand me?" 


THE  CANDID   FRIEND  157 

The  significance  of  this  extraordinary 
speech  it  was  indeed  impossible  to  misunder- 
stand. The  fatuous  weakness  of  Cecil  Comp- 
ton's  note  came  unbidden  to  Holt's  mind,  and 
his  color  rose  despite  himself.  He  made  a 
vaguely  confused  response,  and  for  a  moment 
an  embarrassed  silence  fell,  in  which  Comp- 
ton's  sense  that  if  he  had  not  made  a  com- 
plete success  he  had  made  an  irreparable 
failure  mounted  large  in  his  brain. 

"And  what,"  asked  Murray  Holt  at  last 
with  marked  gentleness,  "what  if  I  cannot 
see  it  just  as  you  do,  Mr.  Compton  ?  What  if 
my  own  ideal  of  my  work  in  the  ministry 
should  fall  clear  outside  of  this  very  attractive 
ideal  you  have  just  sketched  for  me  ?  Men 
do  not  always  see  things  alike,  you  know,  no 
matter  how  much  they  would  like  to." 

Compton's  face  darkened  and  his  eyelids 
flickered. 

"  You  mean  to  ask,"  he  rejoined  curtly, 
"  what  will  follow  if  you  choose  to  disregard 
advice  and  go  on  in  these  fantastic  lines  that 
you  have  chosen  ?  " 


158  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

«  Yes." 

"  I  foresee  in  that  case,"  returned  Compton, 
slowly,  as  if  weighing  each  word,  "  that  you 
will  find  a  door  out  of  Heathfield  wide  open 
to  you  in  a  very  brief  period  of  time." 

Holt  made  no  reply. 

"  I  suppose  you  may  be  aware,"  Compton 
went  on  significantly,  "  that  Mr.  Binney  and 
one  or  two  other  men  in  the  church  take  care 
of  half  your  salary,  Mr.  Holt  ?  " 

"  I  have  understood  so." 

"  I  may  say  that  Mr.  Binney,  with  whom, 
by  the  way,  I  am  to  dine  this  evening,  has  a 
certain  regard,  which  you  would  perhaps  find 
it  difficult  to  share,  for  my  judgment  and 
opinion."  And  Compton  glanced  keenly  into 
Holt's  face  as  he  made  this  suggestion. 

"  That  I  can  perfectly  understand." 

"You  will  perhaps  gather  from  what  I 
have  already  said  what  that  judgment  and 
opinion  would  be." 

"  It  would  not  be  difficult  to  do  so." 

Holt  had  risen  and  walked  slowly  the 
length  of  the  room.  Turning  on  his  heel 


THE  CANDID  FRIEND  159 

he  faced  Compton  at   a   short   distance,  and 
looking  him  straight  in  the  face,  said  stead- 

"  Mr.  Compton,  you  were  kind  enough 
when  you  first  came  in  to  say  to  me  plainly 
that  I  was  on  the  wrong  line.  I  find  myself 
now  obliged  to  use  your  own  words.  You 
are  also  in  this  instance,  altogether  on  the 
wrong  line." 

Compton  looked  at  the  young  minister  in 
turbid  silence. 

"No  man,"  Holt  continued  without  raising 
his  voice  from  its  even  monotone,  "nor  any 
group  of  men,  owns  my  conscience  nor  -can 
control  my  actions.  If  I  were  to  change 
my  line  of  work,  it  would  not  be  in  a  way 
to  save  myself  or  my  salary.  I  have  an 
idea  that  I  can  make  a  living  in  one  way 
or  another,  and  I  have  not  entered  the  minis- 
try with  the  expectation  of  making  more 
than  that.  I  must  continue  to  regard  myself 
as  equally  the  pastor  of  my  poor  and  of  my 
well-to-do  parishioners,  and  to  fight  the  devil 
where  I  find  him  doing  his  worst  work." 


160  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

"Mr.  Holt,"  said  Compton,  unable  to  mas- 
ter the  nervous  tremor  which  suppressed 
anger  produced  in  him,  "you  amuse  me. 
You  are  so  very  —  young." 

"  That  is  fortunate  in  a  way,"  said  Holt, 
gravely,  "for  it  means  that  I  can  afford  to 
make  a  few  blunders." 

"Exactly,"  returned  Compton,  sarcastically; 
"  thus  far  no  one  but  yourself  suffers.  We 
will  at  least  hope  that  you  would  not  allow 
any  other  person  to  share  in  the  singular 
and  it  is  to  be  feared,  checkered  career,  which 
you  seem  to  have  laid  out  for  yourself." 

He  had  risen  now  and  moved  toward  the 
door.  As  he  said  these  words  he  glanced 
sharply  into  Holt's  face,  and  so  doing,  per- 
ceived a  swift,  indescribable  change  in  it, 
as  if  a  sudden  light  had  been  chased  over 
it  by  a  sudden  and  painful  shadow.  In- 
stantly the  suspicion  which  had  lain  smoul- 
dering in  his  mind  since  the  morning  flared 
into  conviction.  It  was  as  if  both  men  at 
that  moment  saw  one  clear,  radiant  face, 
one  haughty  and  fearless  little  head  in  the 


THE  CANDID   FRIEND  161 

space  between  them.  Holt,  who  had  grown 
paler  again,  folded  his  arms  across  his  breast 
and  stood  motionless. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Holt,"  Compton  added  with  a 
certain  punctilious  distinctness,  « you  men 
of  heroic  mould  have  to  forego  certain  of  the 
joys  which  fall  to  us  common  mortals,  else," 
and  he  shrugged  his  shoulders,  "  else  you 
would  seem  to  be  not  only  something  less 
than  heroes,  but  a  little  less  even  than  we 
common  and  inferior  beings.  Pardon  if  I 
have  detained  you.  I  should  be  on  my  own 
way,  I  see,  to  the  Directors'  meeting.  Good 
afternoon." 

Holt  stood  silent  where  Compton  had  left 
him,  for  the  echo  of  words  of  his  own  in 
a  leaf-shaded  veranda  on  a  certain  July  after- 
noon, rang  importunately  in  his  ears. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

AT   THE    LEDGE 

A  SMALL,  rudely  furnished  hall  over  a 
country  store ;  bare  boards  for  the  floor ; 
bare  benches  for  the  people ;  rough  plank 
for  the  walls ;  rough  rafters  for  the  ceil- 
ing; a  deal  table  on  a  platform,  holding 
a  kerosene  lamp  and  some  books;  fifty  peo- 
ple, hard-handed,  hard-faced  men  from  the 
quarry,  and  their  wives  and  children  already 
seated ;  a  noisy,  heavy-footed  band  of  boys 
hanging  around  the  door  —  such  was  the 
scene  of  the  Ledge  meeting  at  half-past  seven 
on  that  same  evening. 

Thus  far  no  one  but  Murray  Holt  had 
appeared  from  Heathfield.  He  had  come  in 
place  of  his  assistant,  Mr.  Parrish,  for  espe- 
cial reasons.  Although  the  failure  of  those 
who  had  heretofore  sustained  the  musical 
features  of  the  programme  would  strip  the 

162 


AT   THE   LEDGE  163 

evening  of  much  of  its  attraction,  Holt  was 
glad  at  heart  to  find  it  thus.  He  had  felt, 
the  moment  he  had  come  into  the  little 
settlement  ten  minutes  earlier,  that  the  trou- 
ble which  he  had  foreseen  for  to-night  was 
brewing.  Sullen  looks  met  him  in  place 
of  pleasant  greetings,  and  from  the  swing- 
ing doors  of  the  Sunflower  Tavern  shouts 
of  derisive  challenge  and  muttered  threats 
had  been  flung  across  the  street  as  he  turned 
in  at  the  entrance  of  the  hall.  Upstairs, 
in  the  hall  itself,  he  felt  a  perceptible  atmos- 
phere of  strain  and  expectancy.  Every  one 
seemed  full  of  suppressed  excitement,  half 
curiosity,  half  anxiety,  and  the  whispering 
was  incessant  as  the  people  took  their  places 
and  filled  up  the  benches. 

He  was  glad  to  meet  alone  whatever  was 
to  be  met  to-night.  At  that  moment,  how- 
ever, the  rough  group  at  the  door  parted 
and  Gladys  Cushier  herself  stepped  alone 
into  the  hall. 

With  a  leap  of  the  heart,  half  of  irresist- 
ible joy  at  sight  of  her,  half  of  instinctive 


164  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

dread  for  her,  Holt  met  and  drew  her  aside. 
A  certain  rapport  had  arisen  between  them 
since  their  talk  in  the  Athenaeum,  a  species 
of  armed  truce. 

"  I  was  sure  you  were  not  coming  to-night," 
he  said  very  low. 

"  Why  were  you  sure  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Compton  told  me  that  neither  you 
nor  his  sister  would  be  here." 

"Mr.  Compton  could  speak  for  his  sister, 
but  he  had  no  right  to  speak  for  me." 

Glee  was  far  from  guessing  the  world  of 
significance  which  those  careless  words  held 
to  Murray  Holt.  She  was  not  pledged  to 
Compton,  then  ! 

« However,  I  wish  you  had  not  come," 
he  said  soberly.  "  If  it  is  not  too  late,  I 
prefer  that  you  should  return  at  once.  Is 
your  coachman  here  still  ?  " 

«  No,  he  went  directly  back.  He  will  come 
for  me  at  half-past  eight,  as  he  has  before." 

"  Very  well.  It  will  not  matter.  I  merely 
thought  we  might  have  a  rather  disagreeable 
time  to-night,  possibly.  Some  of  the  people 


AT  THE  LEDGE  165 

are  stirred  up  a  bit  about  the  action  of  the 
excise  board  in  revoking  the  license." 

"  I  felt  when  I  came  in  that  something 
unusual  had  happened,"  said  Glee ;  "  but  I 
had  no  idea  of  such  a  victory  yet.  But  I 
noticed  that  those  fellows  who  are  always 
lounging  about  the  tavern  steps  stared  at 
me  in  an  odd  sort  of  way." 

"  The  Lorish  contingent  will  not  be  in  a  very 
amiable  mood,  I  imagine,"  said  Holt,  thought- 
fully, devoutly  wishing  Glee  safe  at  home. 
"  We'll  get  along  all  right,  though,"  he  added 
confidently  as  he  led  her  down  the  room  to 
the  small  melodeon  at  the  right  of  the  plat- 
form. Each  was  steadied  by  the  composure 
of  the  other,  and  a  swift,  silent  fellowship  in 
that  moment  was  established  between  them. 
Glee  took  her  place  promptly  at  the  little  instru- 
ment and  struck  at  once  into  the  stirring 
strains  of  a  patriotic  song.  The  first  fifteen 
minutes  of  these  evenings  were  habitually 
given  to  the  singing  of  lively  and  popular 
songs,  an  exercise  in  which  the  people  were 
wont  to  join  with  hearty  good-will. 


166  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

To-night,  however,  the  singing  was  feeble, 
and  interrupted  by  frequent  cat-calls  and 
whistles  from  the  group  at  the  door,  among 
whom  Holt  now  observed  the  oxlike  figure  of 
Bob  Lorish,  son  of  the  innkeeper,  a  big,  brutal- 
looking  fellow. 

Holt  knew  then  with  whom  he  had  to 
reckon,  and  from  Bob  Lorish  he  never  once 
took  his  eye. 

The  third  attempt,  this  time  to  sing  "  Tent- 
ing To-night,"  a  song  which  had  never  before 
failed  to  rally  all  the  voices,  fell  hopelessly 
flat.  Heads  were  continually  turning  to  look 
behind,  and  no  one  seemed  to  be  in  the  mood 
for  singing.  The  sulky  offishness  seemed 
fast  turning  into  open  antagonism.  Glee  rose 
from  the  melodeon  and  spoke  to  a  gentle- 
faced  girl  who  immediately  came  forward  and 
took  her  place  there.  Then  in  a  clear,  ringing 
voice,  much  to  Holt's  surprise,  full  facing  them 
all,  she  said  with  her  brilliant  smile :  "  The 
chorus-singing  seems  not  to  go  very  well 
to-night.  I  will  sing  atone  once,  and  then  we 
will  try  again." 


AT  THE  LEDGE  167 

Every  eye  in  the  room  was  fixed  upon  the 
girl  as  she  stood  lightly,  with  lifted  head  and 
shining  eyes  like  some  pure,  untamed,  but 
unaffrighted  bird  wondering  at  those  who 
could  do  it  wrong.  As  they  watched  her  a 
fascinated  hush  held  the  room,  and  through  it 
floated  now  the  heart-searching,  half-forgotten 
strains  of  that  old  song  of  inimitable  tender- 
ness, "  The  Irish  Emigrant's  Lament." 

Glee's  voice,  of  no  great  range,  had  the 
quality  peculiar  to  some  alto  voices  of  touch- 
ing, almost  mysterious  pathos.  This  quality 
was  strangely  enhanced  at  the  moment  by  her 
inner  excitement,  and  Holt,  intensely  watch- 
ful, saw  as  she  sang  the  last  words  of  the 
opening  stanza,  — 

"  The  red  was  on  your  lip,  Mary, 
And  the  love-light  in  your  eye," 

that  she  was  capturing  the  sympathy  of  the 
whole  company. 

"  "Tis  but  a  step  down  yonder  lane, 

The  little  church  stands  near  — 
The  church  where  we  were  wed,  Mary  — 
I  see  the  spire  from  here ; 


168  HOLT   OF  HEATHFIELD 

"  But  the  graveyard  lies  between,  Mary,  — 

My  step  might  break  your  rest,  — 
For  I've  laid  you,  darling,  down  to  sleep 
With  your  baby  on  your  breast." 

The  exquisite  simplicity,  the  heart-break  in 
the  lines,  with  the  potent  spell  of  homely 
familiarity  to  many  of  those  hard-faced  men 
and  women  added,  produced  an  overmastering 
effect.  The  coarse  excitement  under  which 
they  had  begun  the  hour  was  forgotten. 
Tears  rolled  down  many  furrowed  cheeks,  and 
rough  hands  were  passed  across  misty  eyes. 
There  was  a  pause  while  a  few  strains  of 
interlude  were  touched,  and  then,  at  the  mo- 
ment when  Glee's  lips  parted  to  begin  another 
stanza,  with  a  sharp  hissing  of  the  air,  a  mis- 
sile, aimed  evidently  at  Holt,  who  sat  on  the 
platform  a  few  feet  behind  her,  whizzed  near 
the  girl's  head,  so  close  as  to  touch  the  soft 
waves  of  her  hair. 

But  Holt  was  playing  the  game,  too.  No 
motion  of  Lorish's  had  escaped  him,  and  he 
had  not  been  on  his  'Varsity  nine  three  years 
for  nothing.  Swift  as  an  arrow  his  long  arm 


AT  THE  LEDGE  169 

was  out,  and  he  caught  the  missile,  a  thick, 
empty  bottle,  in  his  strong  fingers  before  it 
could  do  its  work.  Then,  while  those  look- 
ing on  were  wondering  what  had  happened, 
he  had  measured  the  length  of  the  room  and 
reached  the  door.  There  was  a  scurrying 
away  of  heavy  feet  down  the  outer  entry  and 
staircase  before  him,  but  at  the  head  of  the 
stairs  was  Bob  Lorish,  his  face  purple,  his 
teeth  set,  ready  to  stand  his  ground. 

"  I'll  teach  you  to  come  down  here  to  the 
Ledge  meddlin'  with  what  ain't  none  of  your 
business,"  he  began. 

Before  he  could  proceed  farther,  Holt,  say- 
ing dispassionately,  « Another  time,  my 
friend,"  had  grappled  him  by  the  collar  and 
tripped  him  by  a  powerful  kick  administered 
to  his  ankles,  and  so  with  one  mighty  motion 
had  flung  him  down  the  short  flight  of  stairs. 
He  turned  then,  reentered  the  hall,  bolting  the 
door  securely  after  him. 

Strange,  almost  a  miracle  he  thought  it, 
instead  of  the  little  audience  within  being 
broken  up  into  tumult  and  confusion,  save  for 


170  HOLT  OF   HEATHFIELD 

a  few  youngsters  on  the  back  rows,  all  sat  in 
spellbound  silence,  and  there,  white  as  her 
handkerchief,  with  great  lambent  eyes  and 
dauntless  courage,  her  head  held  a  little 
higher,  her  bearing  a  shade  firmer  than  before, 
stood  Glee  and  sang  on  in  that  soft,  pathetic 
voice :  — 

"  I'm  very  lonely  now,  Mary,  — 

For  the  poor  make  no  new  friends; 
But  oh !  they  Jove  the  better  still 

The  few  our  Father  sends. 
And  you  were  all  I  had,  Mary, 

My  blessing  and  my  pride ; 
There's  nothing  left  to  care  for  now 

Since  my  poor  Mary  died." 

Murray  Holt  stood  at  the  girPs  side  as  the 
last  notes  trembled  from  her  lips.  Both  the 
strength  and  the  weakness  of  her  responded 
mysteriously  to  his  presence,  all-dedicated  to 
her  support,  supremely  reverent  of  herself, 
and  yet  sternly  still,  —  no  look,  no  touch, 
no  word  seeking  to  make  his  emotion  known 
to  her.  Glee  perceived  in  a  swift  flash  of 
illumination,  that  what  she  had  done  was 


AT  THE   LEDGE  171 

to  the  man  at  her  side  beyond  praise,  above 
comment,  and  the  perception  seemed  to  flood 
her  consciousness,  as  she  stood  there,  with 
unspeakable  joy. 

At  a  word  of  command  from  Holt  the 
people  stood  and  sang  in  unison  a  verse  of 
a  well-known  hymn. 

Glee  had  thought  he  would  have  dismissed 
them  next;  that  to  continue  the  meeting 
would  have  been  impossible ;  but  to  her  sur- 
prise Holt  opened  his  Bible  and  with  a  man- 
ner only  unusual  by  its  great  quietness,  began 
to  read. 

It  was  as  if  all  that  had  gone  before  had 
but  served  to  deepen  in  Holt's  heart  the  great 
pity  for  the  hard  and  bitter  conditions  of 
life  which  could  breed  such  hatred  and  vio- 
lence. It  was  as  if  he  had  come  to  the  Ledge 
for  this  very  hour,  for,  proceeding  from  the 
words  he  had  read,  he  spoke  to  the  people 
on  the  Great  Sacrifice  as  they  had  never 
heard  him  speak  before,  not  alluding,  even 
remotely,  to  the  disturbing  scene  just  past, 
nor  calling  notice  to  himself  by  any  assump- 


172  HOLT   OF  HEATHFIELD 

tion  of  unwonted  force  or  fearlessness.  The 
marvel  of  his  utterance  was  its  tenderness, 
its  burden  of  compassion  and  sympathy,  its 
yearning  to  draw  his  hearers  to  the  Cross 
of  Christ. 


CHAPTER   XIV 

THE    BRIDGE    AND    A    STAB 

«  PLEASE  let  us  walk  on  and  meet  the 
carriage,  Mr.  Holt.  I  cannot  stay  here  any 
longer." 

Glee's  voice  shook  a  little,  and  her  face, 
in  the  flare  of  the  kerosene  light  shining 
through  smoke-blackened  glass,  showed  paler 
than  its  wont.  It  was  half-past  eight  and 
over.  The  meeting  had  been  carried  on  with- 
out interruption,  and  had  closed ;  the  people 
had  scattered.  They  two  stood  alone  in  the 
small  passage  at  the  foot  of  the  hall  stairs. 
Through  the  open  doorway  they  saw  the  lights 
in  the  Sunflower  Tavern  opposite,  the  restless 
swinging  of  the  silent  doors,  and  heard  the 
continuous  sounds  of  vulgar  revelry. 

They  had  waited  ten  minutes  for  the  Cush- 
ier's  coachman,  and  still  he  did  not  come. 

From  time  to   time  they  could  hear  foot- 

173 


174  HOLT   OF  HEATHFIELD 

steps  approaching  stealthily  up  the  dark 
alley  at  the  side  of  the  place  where  they 
stood,  but  no  one  appeared.  Then  the  foot- 
steps would  be  heard  again  in  rapid  retreat. 
A  public  carriage  had  now  driven  up  before 
the  Sunflower,  and  out  of  it  Glee  had  seen 
a  tipsy  party,  three  girls  in  tawdry  finery 
and  a  man,  alight  and  enter  the  place. 

"  No,  you  cannot  stay  here.  I  am  tremen- 
dously sorry  it  has  happened  thus,"  and  Holt, 
hastily  turning  out  the  light,  followed  Glee 
out  into  the  darkness  and  closed  the  door. 

She  had  wondered  at  this  evident  reluc- 
tance. Surely  they  were  not  safer  in  this 
place  than  they  would  be  on  the  high  road. 
She  did  not  know  that  just  before  they  left 
the  hall  above  there  had  been  thrust  into 
Holt's  hand,  by  whom  he  could  not  discover, 
a  slip  of  paper,  soiled  and  crumpled,  on  which 
was  scrawled,  "Don't  go  home  over  the 
bridge  to-night."  The  only  other  way  to 
return  to  Heathfield  was  long  and  circuitous, 
and  unknown  to  him.  The  distance  to  Heath- 
field  by  the  direct  road,  that  leading  over 


THE   BRIDGE  AND   A  STAR  175 

the  bridge,  was  two  miles.  The  Cushier  car- 
riage would,  of  course,  be  coming  by  the  bridge. 

This  warning  might  mean  nothing.  It 
might  even  mean  a  trick  to  induce  him  to 
seem  to  play  the  coward  and  take  the  unfa- 
miliar road.  It  had,  however,  given  Holt 
cause  for  hot  and  hasty  thinking  during  the 
last  ten  minutes.  Glee  had  been  eager  enough 
for  the  sound  of  her  own  carriage  wheels, 
but  Holt  had  listened  for  them  with  far 
deeper  anxiety.  However,  come  what  might, 
Glee  could  not  be  kept  another  moment  stand- 
ing in  the  doorway.  They  would  go. 

Holt  drew  Glee's  hand  within  his  arm  and 
held  it  firmly  there,  and  so  they  started  out, 
under  the  October  sky  throbbing  with  stars, 
into  the  sweet  night  air  of  the  country. 

They  had  never  walked  together  before. 
The  close  shoulder  to  shoulder  forward  mo- 
tion in  firm  and  even  step  through  the  dark- 
ness and  solitude ;  the  profoundly  moving 
experiences  through  which  they  had  just 
passed  together ;  the  new  sense  of  Holt's 
power  and  purpose  which  the  service  had 


176  HOLT   OF   HEATHFIELD 

given  Glee,  and  his  own  unspoken  sense  of 
possible  peril  for  her  just  ahead,  drew  them 
mightily  together,  and  more  deeply  than  years 
of  ordinary  acquaintance  could  have  done. 

The  air  was  fragrant  and  filled  with  the 
low  hum  of  night  insects,  and  the  late  clover 
fields  on  either  side  the  road  were  drenched 
with  dew. 

«I  could  walk  on  like  this  forever!"  a 
voice  cried  in  Glee's  heart. 

The  contact  of  her  hand  with  Holt's  strong 
arm  seemed  to  energize  her  as  if  with  a  magic 
inflow  of  joyous  vigor.  And  for  him,  the 
secret  consciousness  that  every  ounce  of  his 
manhood  might  be  needed  in  another  moment 
in  her  defence  thrilled  him  with  a  tumult  of 
emotion  in  which  dread  and  exultation  were 
fiercely  mingled. 

"Will  you  do  whatever  I  tell  you,  no 
matter  what  comes?"  he  asked  abruptly, 
with  a  sudden  impulse  as  they  neared  the 
bridge,  sunk  in  its  bushy  hollow.  The  rapt 
stillness  of  the  autumn  night  was  still  un- 
broken by  the  longed-for  sound  of  wheels. 


THE  BRIDGE  AND  A   STAR  177 

Glee's  heart  beat  hard.  She  had  no  idea 
what  the  question  signified  —  why  it  was 
asked  —  and  yet  it  did  not  seem  exactly 
strange  to  her,  or  rather  it  was  only  strange 
where  everything  was  strange,  where  the 
gleaming  heavens  seemed  to  have  taken  on 
a  new  glory  and  the  dark  earth  a  new 
mystery.  Was  it  not  a  part  of  the  fathom- 
less enfolding  of  protection,  half  human,  half 
divine,  into  which  she  felt  herself  entering  ? 

"  Yes,"  she  said  simply,  « I  will." 

They  had  reached  the  point  where  the  road 
descended  somewhat  sharply  to  cross  the 
brook  which  here  was  broad  and  several 
feet  in  depth.  Tall  bushes  loaded  with  crests 
of  purple  berries  grew  thickly  on  each  side  of 
the  road  down  to  the  water's  edge,  and  began 
again  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  stream. 

Holt  had  stopped.  The  bridge  —  a  rude 
structure  of  unprotected  planks  —  lay  bare 
and  empty  in  the  starlight.  No  sound  or 
motion  broke  the  hush ;  no  sound,  he  per- 
ceived to  his  disappointment,  of  approaching 
wheels.  Nothing  could  seem  simpler  or 


178  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

safer  than  to  walk  on ;  and  yet,  who  could 
tell  what  those  clustering  bushes  concealed  ? 

"Why  do  you  stop  here?"  asked  Glee, 
unsuspectingly.  He  had  been  silent  regard- 
ing his  apprehension,  not  wishing  to  alarm 
her  if  it  might  be  avoided. 

«  We  will  not  stop,"  he  said  ;  but  his  heart 
pounded  against  his  side  like  a  powerful 
engine  as  he  walked  on,  tense  of  muscle  and 
vigilant  of  eye,  down  between  the  bushes 
which  closed  thick  and  dark  about  them, 
leaving  only  a  strip  of  sky  above  their  heads, 
and  all  the  world  shut  out. 

They  had  reached  the  bridge  and  trodden 
the  first  loose,  rattling  plank  when  with  rapid 
movement  a  sequence  of  dark,  ominous  figures 
in  a  rather  ghastly  sort  of  silence  moved  out 
from  the  bushes  on  the  farther  side  and 
slowly  approached  them,  while  steps  behind 
them  and  a  hasty  glance  over  his  shoulder 
showed  Holt  that  an  equal  number  of  rough, 
shambling  shapes  had  emerged  from  the 
elders  just  behind,  where  they  must  have 
been  crouching. 


THE  BRIDGE  AND  A  STAR  179 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  whispered  Glee,  clutching 
Holt's  arm  convulsively  in  sheer  terror. 

"  It  is  uncommonly  poor  raw  material.  To 
be  exact,  it  is  our  friend  Lorish  and  his  clan," 
said  Holt,  imperturbably.  "Remember  what 
you  promised." 

Holding  Glee's  hand  yet  more  firmly  within 
his  arm  he  advanced  to  the  middle  of  the 
bridge.  Glee  noted  distinctly  just  then  how 
heavily  sweet  were  the  late  clover  blossoms 
beyond  the  brook,  and  how  one  star,  like  a 
drop  of  light,  seemed  falling  down  the  sky 
to  rest  above  them. 

Evidently  the  presence  of  the  lady  was 
unexpected  and  disconcerting  to  the  plan  of 
attack,  but  Lorish,  nothing  daunted,  stepped 
out  from  the  squad  at  the  bridge's  farther 
end  with  all  the  coarse  swagger  of  a  bully, 
and  with  sulky,  lowering  brow  shouted  with 
an  oath  :  "  Come  on,  parson  !  Me  an'  you's 
got  to  fight.  Brace  up  now,  and  look  alive, 
if  you  ain't  afraid  ! " 

Holt  looked  the  fellow  square  in  his  in- 
flamed, uneasy  eyes  with  stem,  unsparing 


180  HOLT  OF   HEATHFIELD 

scorn.  "  You  are  right,  Lorish,"  he  said  with 
sharp  emphasis,  "  you  and  I  have  got  to  fight, 
and  fight  we  will.  But  you  must  let  me  take 
this  lady  home  first." 

Then  from  both  the  shambling  groups  on 
the  bridge  which  had  now  nearly  met  in  an 
irregular  circle  around  these  two,  there  went 
up  a  shrill,  derisive  yell  started  by  Lorish,  a 
yell  of  low,  taunting  contempt :  « Ho,  yes ! 
That's  what  I  told  you,  fellers,"  cried  Lorish, 
with  a  brutal  sneer.  "  He'll  get  out  of  fight- 
ing somehow ;  them  was  my  words,  and  you 
bet  he  wouldn't,  Jim  McCurdy.  What  d'ye 
say  now,  heh  ?  " 

Before  Holt  could  make  his  voice  heard 
through  the  noise  Lorish  shouted  again : 
«  We'll  see  the  lady  home !  Never  you  fear ! 
But  since  you're  afraid  to  fight  —  what  d'ye 
say,  boys,  let's  chuck  him  overboard  and  cool 
his  head  a  little  in  the  crick  ?  Wouldn't  that 
be  healthy  for  that  kind  of  a  milksop  that 
hides  behind  a  petticoat,  heh  ? " 

Holt,  at  a  white  heat  of  anger  which 
seemed  to  make  the  bridge  and  its  evil  circle 


THE  BRIDGE  AND   A  STAR  181 

whirl  about  him,  and  yet  outwardly  self- 
possessed,  had  loosened  his  hold  of  Glee's 
hand,  and  she,  clinging  now  to  his  sleeve 
like  a  child,  saw  to  her  wonder  that  he  was 
swiftly  removing  his  watch  and  chain  from 
their  place. 

"  Holloa,  Jim  McCurdy,"  he  called  ;  "  you're 
a  fairly  decent  fellow.  You'll  have  to  stand 
for  me  here  a  few  minutes."  Jim  stared  at 
him  in  blank  amazement  as  he  now  placed 
in  his  clumsy  and  unwilling  hand  the  valu- 
able watch  and  chain. 

Holt  then  drew  Glee's  hand  again  within 
the  protection  of  his  arm.  "  Come,"  he  said 
to  her  gently,  "we  will  go  now."  Then  in 
another  tone :  "  Lorish,  I  have  left  my  watch 
with  Jim  as  a  pledge  of  my  return  as  soon  as 
I  have  taken  this  lady  to  her  home.  Meet 
me  here  in  three-quarters  of  an  hour.  I  am 
mighty  sorry  to  put  off  the  pleasure  of 
thrashing  you  as  you  deserve  for  even  five 
minutes,  but"  —  at  the  moment  he  detected 
the  distant  sound  of  carriage  wheels  on  the 
road  beyond  — "  fortunately,  I  believe  I  can 


182  HOLT   OF  HEATHFIELD 

make  it  in  half  an  hour.  I  rely  on  finding 
you  here  then." 

With  these  words,  Glee  on  his  arm,  Holt 
strode  straight  ahead,  the  young  ruffians  over- 
awed, falling  away  on  either  side,  Lorish 
shaking  his  fist  fiercely  after  him,  but  not 
venturing  to  intercept  his  progress.  And 
just  above  Glee  saw  the  star,  still  falling 
down  the  sky  like  a  drop  of  heavenly  light, 
to  rest  above  them. 

A  moment  later  she  cried,  "  Oh,  thank 
the  Lord,"  beginning  then  to  falter  a  little, 
"  there  is  Thomas ! "  For  the  carriage  had, 
in  fact,  just  reached  the  brow  of  the  little 
ascent  beyond  the  bridge,  and  in  a  few  sec- 
onds more  Glee  found  herself  safely  seated 
in  it,  Holt  by  her  side. 

"Drive  as  fast  as  possible,  please,"  was 
his  word  to  the  coachman. 

"  I  am  awfully  sorry  to  have  had  you 
share  in  all  this  trouble,"  he  then  said  com- 
passionately to  Glee,  for  she  was  trembling 
violently,  and  her  breath  came  quick  and 
panting.  She  could  not  speak. 


THE   BRIDGE  AND  A   STAR  183 

As  they  rushed  on  in  the  heavy  dusk, 
trees  and  fences  flying  past  them,  the  clear 
autumn  air  cooling  their  faces,  Glee,  how- 
ever, grew  calmer  and  began  to  wonder 
that  the  man  beside  her  spoke  no  more, 
asked  nothing  as  to  her  welfare,  but  let 
her  have  out  her  reaction  of  excitement 
and  terror  all  to  herself.  Looking  up,  she 
saw  his  face  in  the  starlight,  and  for  a  mo- 
ment she  was  appalled  at  the  passion  of 
still  anger  which  it  showed.  He  seemed 
to  be  forcing  himself  to  silence,  but  his 
compressed  lips,  fixed  gaze,  and  the  hard 
clenched  hands  showed  the  mighty  wrath  of 
a  strong  man  brought  to  bay  by  cowards. 

They  were  entering  the  limits  of  the 
town  before  Holt  spoke.  Then  he  roused  him- 
self with  a  perceptible  effort,  his  attitude 
and  his  face  relaxed,  and  he  seemed  once 
more  to  take  cognizance  of  his  companion. 

Bending  to  look  into  her  face  he  said 
humbly :  "  I  am  ashamed  to  have  been  so 
blithering  mad  at  their  daring  to  do  you 
this  violence  that  I  forgot  your  presence 


184  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

itself  for  a  moment.  I  have  learned  some- 
thing in  the  way  of  courage !  I  would  not 
have  believed  a  girl  could  have  held  herself 
as  you  have  done  to-night.  But  now  you 
will  be  ill,  and  I  feel  so  desperately  guilty  — 
I  can  never  forgive  myself!" 

"Oh,  never  mind  me,"  she  gasped,  buoyed 
up  now  by  the  perception  that  his  fury  had 
been  for  her,  not  for  himself;  "but  please, 
Mr.  Holt,  promise  me  that  you  won't  go  back 
to  those  awful  men.  They  are  frightful. 
They  will  all  set  upon  you  at  once." 

"  Oh,  no ;  they  will  put  up  a  fair  fight," 
he  said,  laughing;  "they  are  not  half  so  bad 
as  you  think." 

"  They  are  thugs ! "  she  cried  vindictively. 

"By  no  means,  Miss  Cushier.  Lorish,  I 
grant  you,  is  pure  thug,  but  the  others  would 
be  halfway,  perhaps  two-thirds,  decent  fel- 
lows if  that  tavern  were  out  of  the  way. 
Jim  McCurdy  might  even  make  a  gentleman 
in  time.  Did  you  notice  that  he  touched 
his  hat  to  me  when  I  put  my  watch  in 
his  hand?" 


THE  BRIDGE  AND   A  STAB  185 

"  I  should  think  he  would,"  murmured 
Glee,  inaudibly,  and  thought  that  Murray 
Holt  perhaps  could  even  make  a  gentleman 
out  of  a  thug. 

There  was  silence  then  as  they  drove  on- 
ward at  full  speed  through  the  darkness, 
and  in  another  moment  Glee  saw  that  they 
were  turning  in  at  her  own  gate. 

Holt  sprang  from  the  carriage  as  they 
drew  up  before  the  familiar  veranda  and, 
seeing  her  weakness,  lifted  her  bodily,  as 
if  she  had  been  a  child,  placed  her  on  the 
floor  of  it  and  rang  the  bell. 

"And  now  you  will  let  the  carriage  take 
you  safe  home,"  she  pleaded,  looking  up, 
still  white  and  trembling,  into  his  face. 

"  Oh,  thank  you,"  he  said  in  the  most 
unemotional  of  tones,  "you  are  very  kind. 
But  I  have  an  engagement,  you  remember, 
with  Mr.  Lorish."  Then,  the  maid  appear- 
ing, he  simply  added  as  he  stood,  hat  in 
hand,  "  I  hope  you  will  be  able  to  rest. 
Good  night,"  and  not  pausing  for  further  dis- 
cussion he  hastened  with  long  strides  across 


186  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

the  lawn  and  immediately  disappeared  in 
the  direction  of  the  Ledge. 

Glee,  not  waiting  to  explain  or  describe 
her  adventure,  not  even  asking  why  Thomas 
had  been  fifteen  minutes  late  in  calling  for 
her,  hastened  to  her  room.  There,  kneeling 
in  her  deep,  low  window-seat,  she  looked 
long  out  into  the  fragrant  gloom  of  the  gar- 
den, saw  the  star  which  had  watched  above 
them  but  now  on  the  little  bridge,  and  prayed 
for  the  man  who  was  hastening  back  there 
to  what,  who  could  guess  ?  The  star  seemed 
to  give  her  answer,  "He  shall  give  his 
angels  charge  concerning  thee." 

Under  her  breath  she  said,  as  her  father 
had  once  said  to  her,  "Murray  Holt  is  a 
man."  And  with  bright  tears  falling  un- 
checked down  her  cheeks,  she  added,  "  Thank 
God,  I  have  known  him  at  last." 

Then,  with  a  sudden  thought  and  a  touch 
of  irrepressible  scorn,  "  Not  just  the  stuff 
that  the  Over-soul  makes  slaves  of !  How 
slow,  oh,  how  slow  I  have  been ! " 


CHAPTER   XV 

MISS    CUSHIER    RUNS    AFTER    THE    MINISTER 

IT  was  after  seven  when  Glee  opened  her 
eyes  next  morning  in  her  tower  chamber. 
She  sprang  to  her  feet,  threw  open  her 
blinds,  beheld  a  dazzling  day,  and  then  all 
at  once,  the  scenes  of  the  night  before  came 
back  to  her.  A  sense  of  the  danger  to  Murray 
Holt  in  his  unknown  encounter  with  Lorish 
and  his  clan  made  her  heart  beat  hard  with 
painful  dread.  With  a  white  face  and  a 
little  tremor  of  anxiety  about  her  lips  she 
went  down  to  breakfast.  A  boy  at  the 
house  door  was  delivering  a  note,  which  the 
maid  at  once  handed  to  her.  It  was  from 
Holt  himself,  a  few  hurried  words  to  apolo- 
gize for  his  inability  to  call  and  inquire  for 
her  welfare,  as  he  was  most  anxious  to  do ; 
but  an  engagement  at  Princeton  made  it 

187 


188  HOLT  OF   HEATHFIELD 

necessary  for  him  to  take  the  eight  o'clock 
train  to  New  York.  That  was  all :  not  a 
word  as  to  his  own  experience  of  the  night 
before.  Naturally,  he  must  be  alive,  how- 
ever, and  in  fairly  good  condition.  What 
could  be  more  like  him,  thought  Glee,  than 
wholly  to  ignore  any  possible  peril  to  him- 
self, any  possible  interest  in  him  on  her  part  ? 
But  how  good  of  him,  how  thoughtful  in 
this  simple  way  to  save  her  further  anxiety ! 
She  sent  back  the  brief  reply  the  note  de- 
manded, assuring  him  that  she  was  in  no 
way  the  worse  for  their  adventure. 

Hardly  was  breakfast  over  when  Cecil 
Compton  crossed  her  lawn  and  called  Glee 
out  to  see  some  late  roses  she  had  found 
still  blooming  in  her  garden. 

The  two  girls  stood  together  at  the  wicket 
gate  in  the  warm  October  sun  which  showed 
Glee's  face  still  pale  and  her  eyes  unwont- 
edly  dark  and  hollow. 

"  Why,  Glee  ! "  exclaimed  Cecil,  "  you  look 
positively  ill.  What  is  the  matter  ?  You 
must  have  had  a  dreadful  time  out  at  the 


MISS  CUSHIER  RUNS  AFTER  THE  MINISTER    189 

Ledge  meeting  last  night.  Tell  me,  honestly, 
all  about  it." 

Glee  gave  her  a  very  mild  and  harmless 
account  of  last  night's  proceedings,  to  which 
Cecil  listened  with  keen  interest. 

"I  should  think  Mr.  Holt  would  have 
enough  now  of  all  this  temperance  business," 
she  remarked.  "  Honestly,  Glee,  don't  you 
think  he  has  carried  things  altogether  too 
far  ?  Of  course  it  is  all  right  for  a  minister 
to  be  a  temperance  man,  but  when  it  comes  to 
mixing  in  these  horrid  political  matters  — " 
Cecil  hesitated,  feeling  a  little  at  sea  on  the 
subject,  and  Glee  smiled  slightly,  recognizing 
the  echo  of  Laurence  Compton's  opinions. 
She  was,  however,  at  a  loss  to  account  for 
this  sudden  revulsion  on  her  friend's  part. 

Cecil  had  the  night  before,  in  fact,  under- 
gone an  ordeal  of  brotherly  plain  speaking 
from  which  she  had  come  forth  chastened 
and  subdued.  She  had  been  told  in  good  set 
terms  that  she  had  thrown  herself  at  Mr. 
Holt's  head,  and  all  for  nothing,  and  it  was 
time  to  come  to  her  senses.  She  could  not  be 


190  HOLT  OF   HEATHFIELD 

so  insane  as  to  discard  chances  plainly  hers  — 
a  marriage  into  New  York's  Four  Hundred 
among  them  —  for  the  sake  of  this  hot-headed 
parson !  And  even  if  she  could,  it  would 
avail  her  nothing,  etc.,  etc. 

This  was  enough  to  bring  any  sensible  girl 
to  a  right-about  face.  Cecil  had  promptly  de- 
clared herself  ready  to  close  the  Heathfield 
house  the  first  of  November,  and  depart  with 
her  family  for  New  York,  where  a  brilliant 
season  and  a  no  less  brilliant  marriage  en- 
gagement, she  had  reason  to  believe,  awaited 
her. 

Consequently  Heathfield  interests,  and  with 
them  those  of  the  Reverend  Murray  Holt,  had 
sunk  that  morning  to  a  somewhat  tame  and 
low  level.  Glee  felt  this  distinctly,  and  it  did 
not  seem  to  her  worth  while  to  attempt  to 
prove  to  Cecil  that  Mr.  Holt  had  gained  a 
notable  victory,  and  had  every  encourage- 
ment for  pressing  on  in  the  work  of  rescue 
and  purification  which  he  had  begun  single- 
handed  at  the  Ledge. 

« I  do  not  think  Mr.  Holt  is  a   man  who 


MISS  CUSHIER  RUNS  AFTER  THE  MINISTER    191 

changes  his  mind  or  his  plans  very  easily," 
was  all  her  response. 

Cecil  nodded  emphatically. 

"  That  is  exactly  the  trouble.  It  is  a  pity 
he  is  so  obstinate.  He  might  have  stayed  in 
Heathfield  indefinitely." 

Glee  looked  up  quickly. 

"  Might  have  stayed  !  What  do  you  mean, 
Cecil  ?  " 

"  Oh,  then  you  didn't  know  that  he  is  to 
resign  as  pastor  of  our  church !  I  might 
have  thought,  of  course,  that  you  could  not 
have  heard.  He  has  found  out,  you  see,  that 
some  of  the  prominent  members  think  it  best. 
Brother  had  a  letter  from  him  this  morning 
about  it.  It  is  all  settled,  I  suppose,"  Cecil 
added  demurely. 

Glee's  color  had  changed  swiftly,  but  she 
held  herself  well  in  hand.  "  It  seems  rather 
sudden,"  was  her  careless  comment ;  but  as 
she  turned  back  a  moment  later  to  her  own 
house  her  spirit  was  in  a  strong  tumult  of 
perplexity,  pain,  and  indignation. 

Mrs.    Cushier  perceived   plainly   that   Glee 


192  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

was  undergoing  some  strongly  emotional  ex- 
perience. She  succeeded  in  drawing  from  her 
a  sufficient  description  of  recent  occurrences  to 
strengthen  her  own  growing  conviction,  that 
her  dear  "  pleached  alley  "  was  destined  never 
to  exist  save  in  imagination.  To  this  she 
resigned  herself  not  without  a  pang,  but  with 
the  philosophic  conclusion  that, 

"  When  half -gods  go 
The  gods  arrive." 

******* 
That  evening  there  was  a  large  reception  at 
the  Binneys,  to  which  Glee  went  with  her 
mother,  solely  because  she  hoped  that  Murray 
Holt  would  be  there,  and  she  could  assure 
herself  that  he  had  come  out  unscathed  from 
his  last  night's  encounter.  Furthermore,  she 
might  even  gather  courage  to  ask  him  if  it 
were  true  that  he  intended  to  resign,  and  why, 
and  whether  he  were  sure  that  this  was  not 
an  impulsive,  premature  step. 

Although  the  Cushiers  were  late  in  arriving, 
Glee  could  find  no  sign  that  Holt  had  come, 
or  even  that  his  coming  was  expected.  A 


MISS  CUSHIER  RUNS  AFTER  THE  MINISTER    193 

wretched  sinking  of  disappointment,  a  weary 
distaste  of  the  whole  brilliant  gathering  fairly 
frightened  her,  as  tokens  of  a  depth  of  feeling 
in  her  own  heart  until  the  last  twenty-four 
hours  quite  unknown  to  herself. 

Having  refused  repeatedly  to  join  the  danc- 
ing, Glee  endeavored  to  keep  out  of  sight  of 
her  friends  in  the  seclusion  of  a  nook  deeply 
draped  in  Moorish  hangings.  Here  she  found 
herself,  a  half-hour  after  her  arrival,  con- 
fronted by  her  host,  Mr.  Binney,  with  his 
ruddy  face,  prominent  eyes,  big  white  mus- 
tache, and  the  unmistakable  air  of  command 
which  long-enjoyed  power  and  prosperity  are 
wont  to  give  a  man. 

"  You  here  and  alone,  Glee  Cushier ! "  he 
exclaimed.  «  Well,  well.  This  will  never  do. 
Have  pity  on  these  poor  boys.  I  saw  you 
turn  them  away,  one  after  the  other." 

"  Oh,  but  you  must  have  pity  upon  me 
to-night,  Mr.  Binney,"  cried  Glee,  making  a 
place  for  him  by  her  side  on  the  divan.  "  I 
am  really  a  little  bit  tired  and  like  to  sit  still 
and  talk  with  men  of  mature  mind,"  and  she 


194  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

smiled  roguishly  up  at  him,  "  instead  of  whirl- 
ing around  the  room  with  those  —  elementary 
intelligences,  shall  we  say  ?  " 

Mr.  Binney  laughed,  not  ill  pleased.  Glee 
was  a  favorite  of  his,  and  her  preference  flat- 
tered him. 

"  I  wonder  where  Holt  is  to-night,"  he  said 
suddenly,  with  his  peculiar  bluff  unceremo- 
niousness. 

Glee's  heart  gave  a  sudden  mighty  throb. 

"Plague  take  the  fellow,"  continued  her 
host,  growling  under  his  mustache  ;  "  I  am 
all  out  of  patience  with  him.  Here  he  has 
sent  in  his  resignation  as  pastor  to  me  as 
chairman  of  the  official  board,  like  lightning 
out  of  a  clear  sky !  Did  you  ever  hear  of 
anything  so  ridiculous  ?  " 

"  Then  that  is  really  true  ? "  asked  Glee, 
not  daring  to  look  up  for  fear  her  eyes  should 
betray  her  eagerness.  "  Somebody  said  to  me 
that  he  had  been  asked  to  resign.  If  so,  one 
can  hardly  blame  him." 

Mr.  Binney  gave  an  indignant  sniff.  "No- 
body could  ever  have  dreamed  of  suggesting 


MISS  CUSHIER  RUNS  AFTER  THE  MINISTER    195 

such  a  thing  to  him  unless  it  was  Compton. 
Compton  ought  to  go  to  Carlsbad  and  take 
the  waters  for  his  liver!  He  has  some  of  the 
most  bilious,  jaundiced  prejudices  I  ever  came 
across.  It  all  comes  of  being  born  to  the 
purple.  He  ought  to  belong  to  the  English 
nobility.  We're  not  aristocratic  enough  for 
him  over  here.  Because  he  saw  a  few  Italian 
children  coming  into  the  sacred  precincts  of 
the  Old  North  Church  to  Sunday-school  one 
day,  his  fastidious  instincts  were  all  up  in 
alarm.  He  was  sure  that  Holt  was  getting 
ready  for  a  regular  French  Revolution  here, 
in  which  all  the  aristocratic  heads  would 
come  off." 

Glee  laughed  merrily.  "Poor  Mr.  Comp- 
ton !  " 

"  Oh,  yes.  He  is  easily  scared.  Then  the 
crown  of  Holt's  offending  seems  to  be  that  he 
had  the  grit  and  the  grace,  which  no  other 
man  in  Heathfield  had,  to  tackle  that  hole  out 
at  the  Ledge  and  clean  it  out.  The  best  thing 
Holt  ever  did  in  his  life,  and  the  pluckiest ! 
But  Compton  is  not  exactly  a  pioneer  in  tern- 


196  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

perance  matters  himself,  and  what  he  wants, 
anyway,  is  a  kind  of  kid-glove  parson,  a  carpet 
knight,  a  man  to  dance  attendance  at  after- 
noon teas,  and  let  the  world  go  to  destruction 
as  fast  as  it  has  a  mind  to." 

"That  is  not  quite  Mr.  Holt's  fashion  of 
a  man,  I  should  think,"  said  Glee,  with  fine 
impartiality. 

"  Not  exactly.  Somehow  or  other,  Compton 
keeps  that  part  of  it  dark —  but  he  contrived  to 
let  Holt  know  that  he  felt  him  something  of  a 
misfit  here ;  was  afraid,  in  short,  that  he  might 
run  the  church  on  too  Christlike  a  basis,  and 
convinced  him  that  others  shared  his  opinion. 
So  what  does  Holt  do  but  resign  out  of  hand, 
not  waiting,  you  can  believe,  to  be  asked  twice, 
and  this  morning  I  get  his  statement." 

Glee's  eyes  spoke  her  sympathetic  interest. 
She  had  forgotten  to  keep  them  downcast. 

"  Well,"  continued  Mr.  Binney,  "  I'll  say 
for  the  young  man  that  I  never  read  a  manlier 
document.  Upon  my  word,  Holt  is  the 
straightest  fellow  I  ever  met,  and  I  told 
Compton  so,  and  dared  him  to  deny  it.  But 


MISS  CUSHIER  RUNS  AFTER  THE  MINISTER    197 

bless  me,  here  he  is  this  minute !  Well, 
well,"  and  Mr.  Binney  rose  with  outstretched 
hand  to  welcome  Murray  Holt,  who  approached 
with  an  apology  for  coming  at  so  late  an  hour. 

As  he  met  Glee  Mr.  Binney  caught  the  swift 
change  in  both  their  faces,  and  slipped  away, 
exclaiming  to  himself  as  he  went,  "  Oh,  ho  !  I 
see  it  all  now !  The  parson  is  cutting  Comp- 
ton  out  with  Glee.  That  is  what  has  made 
him  so  anxious  for  his  removal.  All  is  fair, 
they  say,  in  love  and  war,  but  I  confess  I  don't 
like  my  neighbor's  methods." 

Holt  took  Mr.  Binney's  place  beside  Glee  in 
response  to  an  eloquent  motion  of  her  hand. 

"  Then  that  dreadful  Lorish  did  not  kill  you?" 
she  asked,  her  breath  coming  quicker  just  then. 

"  No,"  he  replied.    "  I  never  felt  more  alive." 

"Tell  me  seriously,  Mr.  Holt,  everything 
that  happened." 

"  It  was  really  nothing  whatever,  Miss 
Cushier." 

"Tell  me  about  it,"  she  commanded  impe- 
riously. "  Were  they  all  waiting  for  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,"    he    said.     "  The    only    interesting 


198  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

feature  of  the  occasion  was  the  way  the  fellows 
had  been  betting  on  what  I  would  do.  Jim 
McCurdy  swore  by  me  straight  through.  I 
think  he  was  magnetized  by  the  watch,  for  he 
seems  to  have  enlisted  permanently  under  my 
banner." 

"  A  henchman  !     How  nice." 

"The  rest  of  them  had  various  opinions," 
he  continued.  "An  ingenious  theory  —  of 
Lorish's,  I  think  —  was  that  I  had  put  the 
watch  into  their  hands  so  as  to  convict  them 
of  highway  robbery  and  was  coming  back 
presently  with  a  «  copper  '  —  do  you  under- 
stand the  term  ?  "  Glee  nodded  —  "  or  a  posse 
of  them,  sheriff  and  all,  to  take  them  into  cus- 
tody. You  see  the  fellow  has  imagination ! " 

"  That  is  what  lots  of  men  would  have 
done,"  declared  Glee,  oracularly. 

« I  do  not  think  any  of  them  but  McCurdy 
expected  me  to  come  back  alone." 

"Of  course  not.  They  supposed  you  had 
common-sense.  But  hurry  and  tell  me  what 
followed.  What  did  you  do  ?  " 

"Why,   what    I    went    to    do,    naturally. 


MISS  CUSHIER  RUNS  AFTER  THE  MINISTER    199 

Thrashed  Lorish,  and  threw  him  into  the  brook 
afterward  for  the  bath  he  so  much  needed. 
The  fellows  cheered,  of  course.  That  is  the 
whole  of  it.  Don't  let  us  talk  about  the  hate- 
ful business  any  more." 

Holt's  face  wore  the  gravity  which  Glee  had 
found  already  was  not  to  be  trifled  with. 
Plainly  the  whole  memory  of  the  incident  was 
disgusting  to  him. 

"  Now  tell  me,"  he  said  very  gently,  looking 
with  anxious  eyes  into  her  face,  "  have  you 
forgiven  me  for  letting  you  get  into  such  a 
wretched  predicament  ?  Are  you  not  com- 
pletely exhausted  ?  " 

"  I  am  perfectly  well,"  she  returned,  looking 
up  with  a  smile  in  her  frank  eyes. 

For  an  instant  she  met  an  eager  response 
in  his,  but  in  that  very  instant  he  rose  with 
an  indefinable  change  of  manner. 

"I  am  exceedingly  glad.  It  is  a  —  relief 
—  to  see  you,  to  find  you  —  like  yourself  al- 
together. But  you  must  not  let  me  keep 
you  here.  Will  you  go  to  the  dining  room  ?  " 
and  he  offered  his  arm  with  formal  courtesy. 


200  HOLT  OF   HEATHFIELD 

As  they  passed  down  the  brilliant,  crowded 
rooms  Glee  was  keenly  conscious  of  the  con- 
trast with  the  evening  before,  when  she  had 
walked  beside  him  in  the  wild,  sweet  dark- 
ness of  the  autumn  night.  Why  were  they  so 
near  together  then,  and  now  so  far  apart  ? 

In  the  dining  room  they  were  soon  sur- 
rounded with  a  gay  group  of  acquaintances, 
and  Glee  noticed  with  surprise  the  weari- 
ness and  pallor  of  Holt's  face,  his  silence  and 
constraint. 

In  a  few  moments  he  excused  himself  and 
she  saw  him  no  more. 

Glee  went  home  with  an  aching  in  her  heart 
as  of  a  deep  and  hidden  wound.  It  was  a 
strange  sensation,  like  nothing  she  had  ever 
known,  and  although  pride  and  will  rebelled 
against  it  passionately,  both  were  overthrown. 
With  wide,  wakeful  eyes  she  lay  sleepless 
through  the  night,  her  untamed,  rebellious 
heart  learning  the  control  of  its  new  master. 
Tears  flowed  quietly,  unchecked  in  the  dark- 
ness, tears  in  which  her  childhood,  departing, 
mingled  with  her  womanhood  in  its  advent 
of  power. 


MISS  CUSHIER  RUNS  AFTER  THE  MINISTER    201 

What  had  happened  ?  Why  had  this 
meeting  with  Murray  Holt,  of  which  she 
had  vaguely  expected  so  much  after  that 
intimate  experience,  meant  nothing  ?  Why 
were  they  farther  apart  than  before,  even 
than  in  the  time  when  there  were  drawn 
swords  of  prejudice  and  avoidance  between 
them  ?  Why  did  she  resent  his  coldness, 
scorn  his  indifference,  vow  she  hoped  never 
to  see  him  again,  and  yet  and  in  spite  of 
all,  feel  that  life  would  be  little  to  give  for 
one  word  of  his  abrupt,  masterful  kindli- 
ness, one  look  from  his  stern,  clear  eyes, 
one  touch  of  the  protecting  strength  of  his 
hand? 


204  HOLT  OF  HEATHFEELD 

be  the  act  of  a  craven.  No,  there  was  no 
avoiding  the  conclusion  which  stretched  like 
a  dead  wall  across  the  end  of  every  argu- 
ment, however  hopefully  begun :  to  go  in 
to  win  her  for  his  wife  signified  either  that 
his  love  or  his  service  had  become  selfish. 
Either  he  must  will  to  let  her  suffer  or  he 
must  will  for  himself  a  life  of  compromise 
and  ease.  All  his  manhood  revolted  from 
either  alternative.  Only  the  bleak  path  of 
sacrifice  remained  open.  He  learned  the 
strength  of  his  passion  sufficiently,  however, 
to  avoid  with  diligence  all  possible  en- 
counter with  Glee  as  the  week  passed. 
Meanwhile,  he  stood  by  his  resignation.  It 
must  go  through  now  for  every  reason. 

The  first  week  in  November  brought  two 
days  of  severe  storm.  On  the  afternoon  of 
the  second,  Holt  left  his  study,  which  was 
turned  for  him  into  a  grim  and  lonely  battle- 
ground, and  started  out  to  meet  the  elements 
instead  of  his  own  ceaseless  questions.  The 
storm  had  largely  spent  itself,  but  a  thin  rain 
fell,  and  gray  clouds  were  scudding  over  the 


THE  END  OF  A  MORTAL  ANTIPATHY    205 

cold  face  of  the  sky,  while  the  last  stripped 
leaves  were  whirled  and  beaten  from  the  trees 
by  the  wind  in  its  buffetings. 

Holt,  walking  abstractedly  down  Broad 
Street,  paused  before  the  iron  gates  of  the 
Athenaeum  and  then  entered  indifferently,  me- 
chanically, having  no  purpose  in  coming  there, 
no  desire  or  intent  to  read.  But  having  en- 
tered the  rotunda,  his  steps  turned  involun- 
tarily to  the  alcove  marked  «  Sociological."  He 
stopped  at  the  entrance  with  a  frown  of  self- 
scorning,  recognizing  the  fact  that  this  had  all 
along  been  his  secret  objective,  unacknowledged 
to  himself.  None  the  less  straight  in  he  went, 
and  with  a  long  breath,  as  of  a  man  who 
escapes  his  pursuers,  he  threw  down  his  hat 
and  dropped  upon  the  low  wooden  stool  in  the 
corner.  Time  passed,  and  still  Holt  sat  en- 
closed by  the  luxurious  privacy  of  the  alcove 
deep-walled  with  books,  shut  in  in  the  hush  of 
this  retreat  to  the  dear  delight  of  recollection. 

"  By  absence  this  good  means  I  gain ; 
That  I  can  catch  her, 
Where  none  can  watch  her 
In  some  close  corner  of  my  brain." 


206  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

The  old  half-forgotten  lines  strayed  through 
his  mind.  It  was  weakness,  he  knew  that, 
but  what  then  ?  being  weakness,  he  preferred 
it  to  strength.  He  had  fought  long  enough. 
He  would  lay  down  his  arms  for  this  short 
hour. 

Here  she  had  sat,  had  looked  up  at  him, 
coldly  disdainful,  hotly  defiant,  as  he  had  stood 
and  rated  her  roundly  for  what  he  most 
adored  her  for, — her  withdrawal  from  himself. 
How  she  had  tossed  her  dainty  chin  upward, 
and  flashed  rebellious  daring  from  the  depth 
of  her  dark  eyes ;  how  she  had  grown  meeker 
after  that,  bending  a  little  to  his  unbending ; 
how  his  whole  big  frame  had  thrilled  with  the 
perception  that  he  could  control  her  wilf  ulness, 
could  direct  her  cooler  judgment,  and  break 
the  stiffness  of  her  opposition  and  antagonism. 
When  he  had  asked  her  to  try  to  forget,  as 
immaterial,  the  fact  of  her  personal  dislike  of 
himself,  how  piquant  had  been  the  charm  of 
her  mischievous  reply.  Then  when  he  had 
touched  the  deeper  chord  of  their  common 
religious  purpose  how  she  had  changed  again. 


THE  END   OF   A  MORTAL  ANTIPATHY    207 

Tears  sprang  to  his  own  eyes  as  he  saw  once 
more  the  tender  humility  which  grew  in  hers, 
till,  driven  by  the  poignancy  of  his  passion, 
the  strong,  rugged  fellow  turned  and  pressed 
his  lips  upon  the  red-leather  labels  of  the 
"Penal  Institutions,"  against  which  the 
darling  head  had  rested.  Giving  himself  then 
a  mighty  shake  and  coloring  with  shame  at 
catching  himself  at  such  a  feat,  Murray  Holt 
took  his  hat  and  hurried  from  the  place  as  if 
his  business  were  of  pressing  importance.  In 
good  truth  it  was  important,  but  it  could 
be  conducted  wherever  he  carried  his  ego,  and 
having  thus  far  relaxed  his  guard,  he  forthwith 
proceeded  in  the  direction  he  most  desired,  but 
had  hitherto  most  avoided:  straight  out  of 
Heathfield  in  the  direction  of  the  Cushiers' 
residence.  Swift  is  the  descent  into  Avernus ! 
It  had  stopped  raining  and  the  wind  had 
abated  with  sun-setting.  Twilight  was  fall- 
ing rapidly.  Holt  walked  on  the  other 
side  of  the  lonely  street  from  the  home  of 
his  parishioner.  As  he  came  opposite  the 
Cushiers'  gate  he  stopped  and  permitted  him- 


208  HOLT  OF   HEATHFIELD 

self  the  sinful  indulgence  of  gazing  at  the 
windows  of  the  tower  chamber,  where  a 
light  was  burning.  The  lower  part  of  the 
house  was  dark  and  the  garden  walks  were 
shadowed  by  thick  shrubbery.  Suddenly 
Holt  started.  A  small  figure,  wrapped  in  a 
cape  whose  monk-hood  was  pulled  over  the 
head,  had  appeared  at  the  gate,  silently  as  if  it 
had  sprung  from  the  ground.  The  gate 
was  quickly  opened  and  the  small  figure, 
which  Holt  recognized  as  that  of  Gladys, 
sped  on  down  the  walk  past  the  Comptons' 
just  beyond.  There  was  a  letter-box  at 
the  next  corner.  As  he  overtook  her,  Holt 
perceived  a  letter  in  the  girl's  hand.  He 
did  not  wait  to  discuss  with  himself  the 
moral  advantage  of  remaining  unseen ;  he 
hastened  to  her  side  as  if  no  other  course 
were  possible. 

Glee,  surprised,  turned  up  a  white,  wan 
little  face  under  the  dark  hood,  whose  look 
touched  him  strangely.  She  gave  him  the 
casual,  indifferent  greeting  he  had  reason 
to  expect  from  her. 


THE  END   OF  A  MORTAL  ANTIPATHY    209 

"Let  me  drop  your  letter,"  said  Holt, 
taking  it  from  her  hand  as  they  reached 
the  corner.  Then,  quite  as  if  it  were  a 
matter  of  course, — 

"  It  is  pleasant  after  the  rain ;  shall  we 
walk  on  a  little?" 

It  was  in  fact  very  unpleasant,  —  gusty 
and  damp  and  muddy ;  but  Glee  did  not  demur. 

"That  letter  tells  my  Boston  friends  that 
I  will  go  to  them  next  week  for  a  visit," 
she  remarked,  for  the  sake  of  saying  some- 
thing. A  dreadful  embarrassment  seemed 
hovering  around,  ready  to  close  in  upon 
them  at  every  step. 

"  How  long  will  your  visit  be  ? "  asked 
Murray  Holt. 

"  Oh,  I  shall  stay  a  month  anyway,  perhaps 
longer." 

Holt  gave  an  involuntary  exclamation. 

"  So  long !  Then  I  shall  be  gone  from 
Heathfield  before  you  return." 

Something  in  his  voice,  the  alarm  of  the 
strong  man's  first,  conquering  passion  break- 
ing upon  it,  disarmed  Glee's  pride. 


210  HOLT   OF  HEATHFIELD 

"  Mr.  Holt,  why  do  you  do  this  thing  ? " 
she  asked  impulsively.  "  I  cannot  under- 
stand your  leaving  Heathfield  just  when  you 
are  most  needed,  and  when  your  work  is 
beginning  to  really  tell." 

"Would  you  advise  me  to  remain,"  he 
asked  proudly,  "when  I  have  been  plainly 
told  that  it  is  the  wish  of  some  of  my  peo- 
ple that  I  should  go  ?  " 

"  But  it  is  not  true ! "  she  cried,  the  hood 
falling  from  her  head  as  she  lifted  it  to 
look  up  into  his  set,  stern  face.  "Every- 
body knows  it  is  not  true.  If  you  go,  you 
will  simply  let  one  selfish,  scheming  man 
triumph  and  carry  out  his  evil  will.  You 
ought  not  to  go  when  every  one  else  wants 
you  to  stay." 

Holt's  smile  betrayed  the  warmth  her 
words  brought  him,  but  he  shook  his  head 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  I  ought  to  go  in  any 
case.  I  must  go." 

«  But  why  ?  "  urged  Glee. 

"  Oh,  why  should  I  explain  ?  "  he  cried  im- 
periously. "You  must  understand." 


THE   END   OF  A  MORTAL  ANTIPATHY    211 

"  I  ?  I  understand  nothing,"  she  answered, 
but  she  trembled  with  mysterious  dread 
as  she  spoke. 

They  stopped   in    the   shade   of   a  leafless 
hedgerow    on    the    lonely    road    and    stood  ' 
full  facing  each  other  in  the  damp  gloom. 

"Gladys!" 

For  the  first  time  Holt  spoke  her  name,  but 
it  was  not  with  a  lover's  tenderness,  but  with 
the  stress  of  pain  and  conflict. 

"Do  you  not  see  that  I  cannot  longer  re- 
main here  and  hold  myself  in  hand,  —  here 
— where  I  have  to  see  you,  feel  you  near  me, 
you  who  are  so  infinitely  dear  ?  Once  I  fan- 
cied myself  strong  enough  even  for  this,  but 
I  am  far  weaker  than  I  thought,  else  I  should 
not  be  here  now.  Have  you  not  seen  how 
I  have  kept  away  ever  since  that  night  when  I 
knew  —  how  it  was  with  me  ?  I  went  to 
Princeton  only  because  I  did  not  trust  myself 
to  see  you ;  afterward  I  determined  not  to  go 
to  the  Binneys',  and  then  went,  in  spite  of  my- 
self, because  I  could  not  stay  away.  The 
struggle  has  gone  on  ever  since,  and  I  know 


212  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

now  the  only  way  for  me  is  to  leave  Heath- 
field." 

"  I  think  I  have  not  understood.  It  has 
not  been  exactly  an  easy  week  —  for  me, " 
Glee's  lip  trembled.  "And  this  is  all  be- 
cause "  —  here  she  stopped  short. 

"All  because  the  life  I  must  live  is  too 
hard  for  me  to  ask  a  woman  to  share." 

"What  a  pity,"  sighed  Glee,  with  a  little 
shake  of  her  head,  "  that  women  have  not 
courage,  and  constancy,  and  character  like 
men !  If  only  they  were  in  earnest,  too,  and 
wanted  to  do  some  real  work  in  the  world, 
how  different  everything  would  be !  But,  of 
course,"  she  went  on  smiling,  half  wistfully, 
half  quizzically,  "  they  are  frail ,  delicate  crea- 
tures who  ought  to  be  shielded  from  all  the 
hardships  of  life  and  never  know  a  sorrow  and 
never  feel  a  fear.  The  place  for  women  is 
in  satin-lined  boudoirs,  reclining  on  cushions, 
—  a  bird  and  a  lap-dog  are  in  order,  novels, 
of  course,  and  flowers  "  —  then  with  a  swift, 
sudden  ripple  of  her  old  light  laughter  she 
cried  :  — 


THE  END   OP  A  MORTAL  ANTIPATHY    213 

"  Oh,  how  did  you  ever,  ever  get  these  ridicu- 
lous old  ideas  about  women  ?  I  am  just  as 
strong  and  brave  and  in  earnest  in  my  way, 
and  just  as  determined  to  do  some  real  work 
in  the  world  as  you,  Murray  Holt ! "  and  she 
met  his  eyes  without  fear  or  faltering,  her 
whole  face  alight  with  high-hearted  courage. 

"  Glee  !  "  he  cried,  and  caught  her  hands, 
looking  with  mortal  earnestness  into  her 
eyes.  "  Listen  to  me !  You  must  not  laugh 
now.  What  you  say  will  kill  me  if  you 
do  not  mean  by  it  all  that  it  means  to  me. 
Say  it  over  again." 

"  I  can't,"  she  said,  dropping  her  head. 
"  Once  you  said  some  nice  things  yourself 
about  me.  I  have  forgotten  them,  of 
course,"  —  and  she  lifted  her  head  to  flash 
a  smile  at  him  through  her  tears,  — "  can 
you  remember?" 

"Yes." 

«  Did  you  believe  them  ?  " 

"  Every  word." 

"A  woman  has  a  right,"  said  Glee, 
slowly,  "to  suffer  for  her  faith,  —  for  her 


214  HOLT   OF  HEATHFIELD 

love,  —  just  as  much  as  a  man.  She  is  his 
equal,  his  comrade,  not  the  weakling  you 
have  in  mind." 

«  I  want  you  to  try  to  grasp  the  idea, " 
began  Murray  Holt  then,  with  a  peculiar 
slow  gentleness,  "of  what  life  means  to  a 
man  who  is  bound  to  be  most  of  the  time 
on  the  side  of  unpopular  causes,  who  is 
bent  on  taking  the  part  of  unpopular 
people,  whose  time  will  be  spent  in  doing 
underground  work,  not  counted  or  consid- 
ered in  a  successful  career,  and  who  will 
not  smooth  down  these  purposes  even  for 
what  is  dearer  to  him  than  life." 

He  paused. 

"  Have  you  thought  it  through  ? "  he 
asked  then  with  the  quietness  of  supreme 
anxiety. 

"  Yes." 

"Then  I  ask  you,  Gladys,  could  you  care 
enough  for  me  to  live  such  a  life,  —  could 
you  be  my  wife?" 

"  Yes,"  she  made  answer  steadfastly,  "  be- 
cause I  love  you." 


THE  END  OF  A  MORTAL  ANTIPATHY    215 

Then  she  found  herself  drawn  with 
strong  enfolding  within  her  lover's  arms ; 
her  head  rested  unresisting  under  the  hand 
which  pressed  it  against  his  heart,  while 
upon  her  brow  and  eyes  and  lips  his  kisses 
fell  like  rain. 


CHAPTER   XVII 

THE    EESIGNATION    OF    HOLT    OP    HEATHFIELD 

ON  the  second  Friday  evening  in  Novem- 
ber the  official  board  of  the  Old  North 
Church  of  Heathfield  was  gathered  in  the 
session-room,  to  consider  the  resignation  of 
the  Reverend  Murray  Holt.  The  board  con- 
sisted of  eight  gentlemen. 

At  the  head  of  the  massive  and  polished 
oak  table  as  chairman,  sat  Mr.  Binney,  ple- 
thoric and  ruddy.  At  his  right  was  Doctor 
Cushier.  Mr.  Compton's  place  was  vacant. 

Mr.  Binney  had  begun  by  tapping  an 
open  letter  which  lay  on  the  table  before 
him  with  an  impatient  forefinger  and  ask- 
ing gruffly  if  some  one  would  see  that  Mr. 
Holt  was  sent  for. 

"You  have  all  seen  and  considered  this 
document,  gentlemen,  which  has  been  laid 
over  from  a  fortnight  ago,  and  which  posi- 

216 


RESIGNATION   OF   HOLT   OF  HEATHFIELD     217 

lively  must  now  receive  your  attention," 
and  he  glared  somewhat  ferociously  over 
his  eyeglass  at  the  members  of  the  board, 
as  if  they  had  met  for  the  express  purpose 
of  not  giving  their  attention  to  the  matter 
in  hand. 

There  was  a  little  silence  in  which  Mr. 
Binney  glanced  frequently  at  the  door,  growl- 
ing under  his  mustache  that  they  couldn't 
do  a  thing,  not  a  thing,  until  Holt  arrived. 

This  shortly  happened.  The  young  clergy- 
man entered  the  room  with  his  wonted 
sturdy,  good-humored  composure  and,  at  an 
abrupt  but  not  ungracious  motion  of  the 
chairman's  hand,  took  the  seat  left  vacant  by 
the  absence  of  Mr.  Compton. 

"No,"  said  Doctor  Cushier  to  Holt,  in 
answer  to  a  whispered  question,  "no,  Mr. 
Compton  will  not  be  here  to-night.  In  fact, 
his  resignation  as  a  member  of  the  board  has 
just  been  acted  upon." 

This  was  plainly  a  great  surprise  to  the 
young  pastor. 

"Now,  gentlemen,"  said    Mr.   Binney,  irri- 


218  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

tably,  "give  your  attention,  please,  to  the 
business  next  before  us,  namely,  the  resigna- 
tion of  the  Reverend "  —  and  here  he  lifted 
the  document  on  the  table  and  appeared  to 
look  anxiously  for  the  signature  —  "Murray 
Holt.  Couldn't  remember  your  first  name, 
sir,"  he  interjected,  nodding  over  the  table 
in  Holt's  direction. 

"I  see,"  he  went  on  presently,  consulting 
the  letter,  "that  this  document  sets  forth 
as  reasons  why  the  pastor  is  desirous  of 
being  dismissed  from  his  charge  here,  that 
he  has  the  fixed  conviction  that  his  duty  is 
to  be  pastor  and  friend  to  aU  the  people, 
to  the  poor  and  ignorant  as  well  as  to  the 
wealthy  and  favored  ;  that  he  purposes,  wher- 
ever he  goes,  to  mingle  freely  and  at  his 
own  discretion,  with  the  poorest  of  his  par- 
ishioners; to  study  industrial  problems  dili- 
gently in  the  light  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ ; 
and,  so  far  as  in  him  lies,  in  circumstance 
and  in  sympathy,  to  seek  to  bridge  over  the 
gulf  which  unhappily  now  lies  between  the 
rich  and  the  poor,  believing  that  in  this 


RESIGNATION   OF  HOLT  OF   HEATHFIELD     219 

direction  there  is  vital  necessity  for  the 
religion  of  Christ  to  be  applied. 

"  He  deposes,  further,"  continued  Mr.  Bin- 
ney,  who  was  excessively  legal  in  his  phrase- 
ology, and  whose  voice  grew  ever  gruffer, 
"  that  he  has  been  led  to  think  that  the  kind 
of  work  he  has  attempted  to  do  in  Heath- 
field  has  been  unacceptable  to  this  church, 
and  that  his  efforts  against  the  granting  of 
license,  his  fraternizing  with  the  operatives, 
etc.,  have  alienated  the  sympathies  of  the 
strong  and  substantial  members.  That,  feel- 
ing that  he  has  no  right  to  represent  a  church 
as  pastor  and  yet  act  counter  to  the  wishes 
of  that  church,  it  becomes  his  duty  to  —  in 
short,"  and  Mr.  Binney  knocked  off  his  eye- 
glass and  laid  down  the  paper,  — "  in  short, 
to  take  himself  off.  That's  the  gist  of  it, 
gentlemen." 

Holt  looked  at  the  table ;  the  others  looked 
at  Mr.  Binney,  who  now  squared  himself  in 
his  chair  and  said :  — 

"As  a  member  of  the  board,  not  as  chair- 
man, I  wish  the  liberty  to  ask  a  few  ques- 


220  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

tions.  If  the  Reverend  Murray  Holt  wishes 
to  befriend  the  poor,  and  bear  the  burdens 
of  the  oppressed ;  if  he  wishes  to  live  among 
them  as  our  Saviour  lived ;  if  he  wishes  to 
fight  the  liquor  traffic  and  is  willing,  as  we 
have  heard  whispered,  to  give  and  to  take  hard 
knocks ;  if  he  seeks  to  reconcile  employer 
and  employed ;  if  he  desires  to  strive,  so  far 
as  in  him  lies,  to  bridge  the  chasm  between 
the  sympathies  and  interests  of  the  rich  and 
the  poor;  if,  I  say,"  and  Mr.  Binney  having 
reached  the  climax  of  his  rounded  period, 
dropped  his  rhetoric  and  his  eloquence,  and 
pounding  fiercely  on  the  table  fairly  shouted, 
"if  Holt  wants  to  do  all  this,  where  on  the 
face  of  the  earth  is  it  needed  more  than  in 
Heathfield,  gentlemen  ?  I  can't  do  it.  Comp- 
ton  can't  do  it.  You  can't  do  it,  Doctor.  I, 
for  one,  would  like  to  see  Holt  try  it  1 " 

The  young  pastor,  much  amazed  at  these 
words  of  the  millionnaire,  sat  with  eyes  fast- 
ened upon  him.  To  him  Mr.  Binney  now 
proceeded  to  address  himself,  with  emphatic, 
lifted  forefinger  sawing  the  air. 


RESIGNATION  OF   HOLT   OF   HEATHFIELD     221 

"  I  say,  Holt  —  Reverend  Murray,  excuse 
me !  —  we  employers  know  as  well  as  any- 
body that  changes  have  got  to  come. 
Some  of  us  have,  by  some  freak  of  nature, 
rudimentary  hearts  left  over  after  our  long 
industrial  war,  and  God  knows !  —  if  there's 
a  way  to  lift  these  people  out  of  their  bond- 
age to  poverty  and  drudgery,  we  want  to 
know  it. 

"I  repeat  it,  changes  are  bound  to  come, 
and  I  am  proud  to  have  a  pastor  who  can 
think  for  himself  and  observe  for  himself, 
and  give  us  fellows  who  are  too  thick  in 
the  dust  and  noise  of  business  to  do  it 
for  ourselves,  the  results  of  his  study  and 
observation. 

"  So  I  say  to  you,  young  man,"  and  Mr. 
Binney  grew  yet  crustier  and  more  irasci- 
ble, "live  where  you  like;  fight  whom  you 
like ;  preach  in  hedges  and  ditches,  if  you 
like ;  do  as  you  please,  only,  stay  where 
you  are.  We  can't  spare  you.  Do  you 
hear?" 

Holt,     flushed    like    a    schoolboy    who    is 


222  HOLT   OF   HEATHFIELD 

taking  a  raking  down  from  his  head-master, 
rose  to  his  feet  with  his  hands  in  his  pock- 
ets, dropped  his  chin  on  his  breast,  es- 
sayed to  speak,  and  then,  finding  that  the 
revulsion  of  feeling  was  too  much  for  him 
to  master,  bowed  and  sat  down  without 
having  uttered  a  word. 

One  after  the  other  the  different  members 
of  the  board  arose  and  expressed  themselves 
as  of  one  mind  with  the  chairman,  with 
the  exception  of  Doctor  Cushier. 

Mr.  Binney  spoke  again,  saying  that  it 
was  a  matter  of  regret  to  all  that  Mr. 
Compton  could  not  see  this  matter  exactly 
as  the  rest  did,  and  that  he  had  for  that 
reason  withdrawn  from  the  board.  The 
only  other  member  who  was  non-committal, 
and  of  whose  hearty  acquiescence  in  the 
action  proposed  the  board  was  not  assured, 
was  Doctor  Cushier.  All  would  be  glad  to 
hear  from  the  doctor. 

Upon  this  Doctor  Cushier  rose,  a  quiet  and 
yet  perplexed  smile  upon  his  face. 

"  The  reason  I  have  abstained  from  taking 


RESIGNATION   OF   HOLT   OF   HEATHF1ELD     223 

part  in  the  discussions  which  have  preceded 
this  meeting  and  in  the  measures  which  have 
led  up  to  the  action  proposed  by  Mr.  Binney, 
is  that  I  have  feared  to  speak  from  interested 
motives.  The  fact  is,  my  friends,  I  rather 
think  it  will  have  to  be  owned  up  to  now," 
and  he  nodded  laughingly  across  the  table  to 
Holt,  "  the  fact  is  this,  the  gentleman  who  is 
stirring  up  all  this  commotion,  the  gentleman 
who  carries  the  title-role  in  this  little  drama 
of  ours,  has  manifested  a  desire  to  stand  in 
the  relation  of  son-in-law  to  myself."  A 
lively  sensation  passed  around  the  table  upon 
this  declaration,  and  Holt  tried  not  to  look 
any  more  exalted  than  was  inevitable. 

"  This  fact,  as  you  yourselves  can  see,  might 
seem  to  color  my  opinions,  in  regard  to  the  ac- 
tion taken  here  to-night,  but  I  will  leave  it  to 
the  imagination  of  you  all  what  those  opin- 
ions are  likely  to  be.  To  be  perfectly  honest, 
however,  I  ought  to  say  that  I  have  been  led 
to  think  that  if  the  church  can  endure  the 
strain  of  Mr.  Holt's  becoming  engaged,  it  can 
endure  any  other  strain  which  he  is  likely 


224  HOLT   OF   HEATHFIELD 

ever  to  put  upon  it.  Mrs.  Cushier  has  always 
represented  to  me  that  it  would  create  a  very 
serious  situation  if  the  pastor  should  ever 
contemplate  marriage.  She  faces  the  situa- 
tion, now,  however,  it  seems  to  me,  with 
remarkable  courage,"  he  added,  with  a  smile 
of  good-humored  irony,  and  with  this  still  on 
his  lips,  sat  down. 

Murray  Holt,  steady  now,  his  emotions 
well  in  hand,  rose  to  speak,  since  plainly 
the  next  word  must  come  from  him.  He 
spoke  with  the  complete  absence  of  rhetoric, 
of  intentional  impressiveness,  characteristic  of 
him  always,  with  the  frank  simplicity  of  a 
boy,  but  with  the  dignity  which  the  serious- 
ness of  his  purpose  always  gave  him. 

"Gentlemen,"  he  said,  —  "brothers,  I  am 
younger  than  you.  You  are  wiser  than  I, 
gentler,  more  charitable.  I  feel  at  this  mo- 
ment, as  never  before,  how  raw  and  crude 
and  headlong  I  have  been  in  all  that  I  have 
done,  —  most  of  all  in  my  failure  rightly 
to  judge  my  brethren.  For  I  have  not 
dared  to  hope  that  you  shared  my  eager 


RESIGNATION  OF   HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD     225 

desires,  that  you  could  have  further  patience 
with  my  blundering  attempts  among  the 
poor  folk  of  this  place.  I  thank  you  for 
your  patience,  your  generosity  to  me,  for 
your  sympathy  in  what  I  want  to  do  if 
God  will  show  me  how.  Yes,  I  will  stay," 
he  added  with  a  swift  smile,  which  strangely 
beautified  his  rugged  face,  "and  with  all 
my  heart,  since  you  will  let  me  do  my  own 
work  in  my  own  way.  I  want  to  stay.  I 
want  to  see  some  things  through. 

"  Brothers,  I  have  been  spending  much  of 
my  time  these  months  past  with  poor  men. 
I  have,  I  think,  caught  their  point  of  view 
in  some  degree,  seen  life  from  their  angle. 
They  are  not  bitter,  they  are  not  resentful, 
nor  revolutionary ;  they  are,  in  fact,  heart- 
rendingly  patient.  Can  we  blame  them,  if 
they  long  to  give  their  wives  and  children 
in  some  sort  the  sweet  and  high  and  noble 
joys  which  others  command  for  theirs?  I 
cannot.  I  am  on  their  side.  But  I  am  on 
yours  too.  I  stand  with  every  man  who, 
in  the  name  of  Christ,  and  in  that  love 

Q 


226  HOLT  OF  HEATHFIELD 

which  He  came  to  make  visible,  seeks  to 
serve  and  to  save  those  who  suffer,  —  the 
weak,  and  those  who  are  gone  out  of  the 
way. 

"The  heart  of  my  joy  to-night,  you  know 
from  Doctor  Cushier.  I  am  not  alone  in  this 
pledge  and  purpose,  but  beside  me,  by  and  by, 
will  stand  one  whom  you  all  love.  She  will 
soften  my  harshness  and  impetuosity,  we 
can  hope,  and  smooth  out  a  few  of  my 
blunders.  With  such  a  hope,  I  dare  to 
stay  in  Heathfield." 


An  Outline  Study  of  India 

By  CAROLINE   ATWATER  MASON 

Paper,  30  cents,  net  Cloth,  50  cents,  net 


MANCHESTER  GUARDIAN: 

"  As  what  it  professes  to  be,  a  brief  manual,  giving  only  the 
most  prominent  outlines  of  a  vast  subject,  the  book  is  simply  beyond 
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CHICAGO  TRIBUNE: 

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as  well  as  for  him  who  would  get  an  accurate  knowledge  of  Indian 
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BOSTON  TRANSCRIPT: 

"  An  excellent  outline  study  of  India  from  the  Christian  stand- 
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THE  UNIVERSALIST  LEADER: 

"  Lux  Christi  is  indeed  but  an  outline  study  as  it  professes  to  be, 
but  the  ordinary  reader  will  find  that  he  has  in  it  the  material  for  a. 
true  and  intelligent  appreciation  of  India,  its  history,  its  social  life, 
the  evolution  of  its  various  religions.  The  book  is  very  fair  and 
tolerant,  giving  full  credit  to  religions  at  variance  with  the  teachings 
of  Christianity,  but  pointing  out  wisely,  dispassionately,  and  dis- 
criminatingly the  weakness,  the  impotency,  and  the  failure  of  these 
crucial  faiths." 


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RONALD  CARNAQUAY 

A  Commercial  Clergyman 

By  BRADLEY  OILMAN 

Author  of  "The  Parsonage  Porch,"  "Back  to  the  Soli,"  etc.,  etc. 

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In  this  Mr.  Oilman  is  quite  fair,  and  though  his  book  is  often 
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u  Mr.  Oilman  has  written  a  book  which  must  be  read  with 
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UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

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